That Boy Is Trouble
by Andrew Joshua Talon
Summary: Privet Drive is home to many secrets, many lies... And many sexually frustrated women. As Harry Potter soon finds out. AU Fifth Year, HP/HG/NT/Various, rated for general naughtiness. R
1. Chapter 1

**DRAMATIS PERSONAE** for **THAT BOY IS TROUBLE**

**CANON CHARACTERS**  
Harry Potter - **Daniel Radcliffe**  
Hermione Granger - **Emma Watson**  
Nymphadora Tonks - **Natalia Tena**  
Ron Weasley - **Rupert Grint**  
Siruis Black - **Gary Oldman**

Remus Lupin - **David Thewlis**

Fred Weasley - **James Phelps**  
George Weasley - **Oliver Phelps**  
Albus Dumbledore - **Michael Gambon**

Kingsley Shacklebolt - **George Harris**  
Alastor Moody - **Brendan Gleeson**  
Severus Snape - **Alan Rickman**

***NON-CANON ACTORS/ACTRESSES FOR CANON CHARACTERS  
**Minerva McGonagall - **Catherine Bell**  
Poppy Pomfrey - **Moira Kelly**  
Hestia Jones - **Eve Myles**  
Emmeline Vance - **Dannielle Brent**  
Amelia Bones - **Lauren Holly**

Fleur Delacoeur - **Liina Brunelle**  
Aurora Sinistra - **Simone Nicole Jean Lahbib Ould Cheikl**  
Septima Vector - **Amanda Tapping**

Luna Lovegood: **Summer Glau****  
**

Narcissa Malfoy - **Anna-Louise Plowman**

**NON-CANON CHARACTERS**  
Rose Ayola - **Thandie Newton**  
Ruth Tylor - **Sarah Jane Dunn**  
Mrs. Simhalan - **Aishwarya Rai**  
Cynthia Rockwell-Smith - **Gemma Bissix**  
Marilyn Piers - **Camilla Belle**  
Diane Carver - **Kate Beckinsale**  
Jennifer/Gwendolyn Song-Green - **So-Eun Kim**  
Sun-Yi Song-Green - **Jung-Hee Moon**

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and Time Warner, I am not writing this for profit.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year_...

* * *

Mrs. Rose Ayola of Number Eight Privet Drive was in need of a gardener, as her allergies were too intense for her to deal with it while her husband was away. So, in order to get Harry out of the house, Petunia had her nephew go out and do some work for the housewife.

Harry arrived at the house, feeling angry and depressed, but at least he was out of the Dursley's house. He went up to the door to the house, and knocked on it. The door was opened.

"Hello, I'm... Uh..." Harry blinked. He was greeted by a shapely black woman, wearing a very, very thin silk robe. She smiled saucily at the teenaged boy.

"Hello... Harry was it?" She asked in a soft tone. "Won't you come in?"

"I uh..." Harry nodded dumbly and entered. "Um... Don't you have some... Uh... Gardening for me to do?"

"There's no need to rush, is there?" She asked.

"Well, um..."

Mrs. Ayola let her robe slip off one of her shoulders. Harry's jaw dropped again.

"Uhh..."

"Come now Harry," she said. "No need to play innocent with me..." She winked and smiled. "After all... You do have a reputation..."

She then dropped to her knees, and Harry found himself wondering what the hell had been said, and who had been saying it...

"Mmmm~..."

And who to thank.

* * *

Mrs. Ruth Tylor was known as the local Gossip Queen. She still hadn't found out who had said that, but she would. Busybodies and gossipers needed to be brought to the neighborhood's attention, after all.

So, per her usual, she was peeking-Ahem, _investigating_ from her bedroom window at Number Ten on Privet Drive, scanning with binoculars for anything particularly juicy.

The Potter boy going into Mrs. Ayola's home was cause for interest. Mrs Ayola greeting the boy dressed like _that_ was the cause for a very wide grin on the blonde gossipmonger's face.

The Potter boy losing his pants ellicited a gasp from the woman's lips.

"No wonder he's always wearing those baggy jeans," she murmured. She checked herself in her closet's full length mirror. Hmm... Her workouts had kept her in very nice shape, she had to say. And while she wasn't as stacked as Mrs. Ayola, she was quite sure her bum was in fine form.

She looked back at the window, and her black eyebrows shot up nearly to her roots.

"Bloody hell...!" Mrs. Tylor's lips felt so very, very dry. She licked them, the hand not holding up her binoculars tugging at her collar.

She had heard the boy knew how to take care of plumbing at the Dursley house, perhaps she should see if he... Measured up.

* * *

Harry exited Number Eight, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in a very, _very_ long time. All the tension seemed to have evaporated from his muscles, Mrs. Ayola had let him go with a kiss to his cheek and an invitation to visit whenever he wanted... Provided her husband was away.

Oh. There was a bit of a snag. Adultery. Hmm... Well, he had saved the Wizarding World and his friends' lives several times. Maybe it gave him a bit of leeway in regards to that kind of thing? Surely he was entitled to one sin... Unless you counted each, er, act as a sin in itself...

"Oh Harry?"

Harry turned his head. Mrs... Tylor, he thought, was leaning across the fence. His eyes drifted to her low-cut blouse, and blushed a bit at the sight.

_She's not wearing a bra...?_

"Uh... Yes Mrs. Tylor?" Harry asked. The older woman grinned.

"Ah... I'm afraid there's something wrong with my sink... Could you possibly take a look at it?"

"Er, well... Sure, Mrs. Tylor," he said with a shrug. Why not? Kept him away from the Dursleys, and hey, it certainly had a better view...

* * *

"OHHH G-GOD YES! YES! RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERRRE!"

* * *

"Mmm... Come back any time, Harry~," cooed Mrs. Tylor, treating him to one last kiss at the door. Harry nodded, a goofy smile seemingly stuck to his face. He walked out the door, limping very, very slightly. Mrs. Tylor watched him go, leaning against the doorframe. Ooh, she was going to need a cushion...

"Great enthusiasm... Poor aim," she muttered, though she did not seem the least bit sorry about it.

Harry walked down to the sidewalk... And was very nearly run over by a woman Mrs. Tylor instantly identified as Mrs. Simhalan, a new tenant at Number Fourteen Privet Drive.

"Oof! Oh damn, I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" Harry asked frantically. The Indian woman groaned, and held her ankle.

"Oww... I think I hurt my ankle... Could you possibly help me home, ah... Harry Potter, right?"

Harry nodded, and helped the beautiful Indian woman up to her feet. She wrapped both arms around him, and Harry's cheeks turned red as her breast was pressed into his cheek.

"Ah, thank you Harry," Mrs. Simhalan practically purred. "I just need some help... Getting up to my bedroom..."

Mrs. Tylor blinked. Mrs. Simhalan never went jogging this early...

The look on the woman's face as Harry wrapped an arm around her waist put the pieces together for her, and the gossip shook her head with a wry chuckle.

"I suppose I can only blame myself," she mused, as she shut her door.

* * *

Cynthia Rockwell-Smith sighed heavily as she was greeted at the bus stop by the local dimwit. She couldn't understand why this stupid oaf hadn't gotten the picture that she had _no_ interest in the pillock. After all, who'd want to date a greedy pig like boy?

"Dursley, I've said it over and over again that I do not have any interest in you," the redhead stated flatly. She turned on her heel and walked off.

"Oh come on, Cynthia! I-I managed to beat a sixteen year old, you know!" He protested. "In boxing! I beat him up!"

"Yes, yes, I'm completely sure, good for you," she sniffed. She walked down the sidewalk, haughtily ignoring Dudley's continuing pleas. She paused when her eyes looked over Number Four Privet Drive, Dudley's home.

"Who is that?" She asked, eyes locked firmly on the black haired, wiry, _shirtless_ boy working in the garden. Dudley snorted.

"Huh? Oh, that's my freak of a cousin..."

"Harry?" She asked, blinking again. Good Lord, those large hand-me-downs of his had hidden so very, very much... She found herself licking her lips as her eyes greedily traced the sinewy muscles of the boy's back, the beads of sweat running down his chest and back as he wiped his brow. He wasn't a body builder, he was built like a gymnast-Sleek, firmly muscled without any visible body fat.

"Yeah. He's so skinny and scrawny," Dudley snorted. "Nothing at all on his bones!"

"Yes... Nothing..." Cynthia said, cursing baggy clothes to the deepest, darkest pits of hell. She walked up to the fence, and admired the view a bit longer before Harry noticed her.

"Ah... Hello, Cynthia," he said, a questioning tone in his voice.

"Hello Harry... It's been a while," Cynthia said, her voice a bit lower and huskier. "When was the last time we talked?"

Harry blinked again. "Um... I think you might have said a few things to me in primary school... About my glasses..."

"Right, right," Cynthia nodded. "Say... I was thinking of starting a garden, you know, as a hobby. Think you could come over, help me with the initial, er, plowing or whatever? You've been working out here so long so I know you'd be able to handle it."

"Me?" Harry asked, is some mild disbelief. Cynthia nodded.

"Oh yes... " Her eyes dipped lower, focusing on his crotch. Damn stupid, stupid baggy pants...!

"Well, I could... I'll just have to ask my aunt," Harry said.

"Great. I'll see you in... An hour, say?" Cynthia suggested, mentally calculating how long it would take for her parents to get home. Probably late tonight-They had a bridge club meeting or something, she didn't really care.

"Sure," Harry said.

"Bye Harry," Cynthia said, waving as she headed off. Dudley stared after her, and then glared at his cousin.

"What the hell was that? What's she see in you, freak?"

Many, many retorts came to mind, but for a chance to get the hell out of the Dursleys yard for a few hours, Harry could keep quiet. He shrugged.

"Guess she just wants someone to do manual labor for her," Harry suggested. "Like most women I know."

"Yeah, it's all you're good at, freak!" Dudley sneered.

* * *

It hadn't been very hard to convince Aunt Petunia to send him off. Cynthia Rockwell-Smith took after her mother-She was very domineering and cold, and making Harry do more work away from the house was a great idea to Petunia. So, an hour later, Harry was knocking at the door, not even being given the chance to shower.

Cynthia opened the door, dressed in a tight white T-shirt, shorts, and trainers.

"Hello Harry," she said with a smile. "You're right on time..." She sniffed the air. "What's that?"

"Ah... My aunt wouldn't let me take a shower... I'm sorry about that," Harry apologized. Cynthia froze for a moment, and then smiled.

"Well, that just won't do," Cynthia said calmly. "Why don't you come in and have a shower here?"

"Um, sure," Harry said, smiling a bit. Wow, maybe there were nice people on Privet Drive. Cynthia may have been a brat to him when he was little, but he supposed she could have changed.

She led him upstairs, and Harry's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to her bum. Her shorts were so tight, showing off her nice, round bottom. That she was swinging her hips made it all the more difficult to look away.

Harry was led to the bathroom, and Cynthia opened it up for him.

"Go on in, take as long as you need," she said. Harry nodded and smiled back, heading on in. The door closed behind him, and Harry quickly slid out of his clothes before turning on the shower and stepping in.

"Ahh..." He sighed, eyes shut as he enjoyed the warm water flowing over him. This was great...

The shower door opened, and someone stepped in behind him. Harry's eyes opened wide and he looked back.

"C-Cynthia?"

"Oh hello Harry... Hope you don't mind, but I thought you might need a little help cleaning up," Cynthia purred, very obviously naked even in Harry's blurry vision. "Let's start... Down here, shall we?"

"W-Wait, I-Wooaahhh...!"

"Mmmm..."

* * *

A few hours later, Cynthia was laying on her bed, arm over her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Harry was curled up next to her, also breathing harder than usual from their activities.

"W-W-Wow... Wow..." Cynthia moaned softly. Harry couldn't help his grin, which he hoped didn't look too smug.

"How was that?" He asked softly. Cynthia lifted her arm off and smiled dreamily.

"Absolutely brilliant... God Harry, your hands are like... Like _magic..._"

Why Harry laughed so hard at that, Cynthia didn't know, but the usually morose and dark boy laughing and smiling so freely really got her motor running again, and this time Harry shagged her until she was fit to pass out.

"Ohhh... Y-You should, haaa... Go," she sighed, looking at the clock. "My parents'll be home soon..."

"Oh," Harry said, frowning. Cynthia smiled warmly.

"But... I think I'll need some more help with my garden, say... Saturday?"

Harry blinked in slight confusion, before he got her meaning and grinned.

"I... I'll be there."

"Good," Cynthia sighed.

* * *

"Well? Did you do what you were told, boy?" Petunia demanded when Harry got back. Harry smiled.

"Yep... Though apparently not enough... She wants me to come back on Saturday."

"Well, that's just what I'd expect from you. You will get back there and you will _finish_ what you started, boy, until that nice girl is happy, understood?" Vernon ordered. At Dudley's smirk, Harry could do nothing but smile back.

"Understood, Uncle..."

* * *

"So, your twin daughters would like the boy to come over and help them with mowing the lawn?" Petunia asked with a raised eyebrow. Her gossip sense was tingling, but Ruth hadn't had anything on her nephew's activities at the various homes he was being invited to. She merely said he was being run ragged.

Well, if that was the case...

"Certainly Mary, dear... Oh, don't worry about his curfew. The less he's in this house, the better."

"You know Marilyn, you've been having that Potter boy over a lot," Anthony Piers Sr. commented as he watched TV in the den. His son sat nearby, boredly watching with his father with an identical expression.

Marylin Piers, an olive skinned beauty with short black hair cropped into a bob and kind eyes, resisted the urge to giggle.

"Well, he does do the chores I can't do very well..." She smirked. "_Very_ well indeed... "

Piers Sr. frowned, and looked over at his son. "Why can't you have Junior handle them?"

"I've got my friends to hang out with," Piers said. "Tea parties, you know? Meeting girls?"

"Yes, Anthony should be out and about, seeing girls... Besides, Har-the Potter boy is very hard working, very strong... Why, he's handled all your chores for the month and then some in just a week!" Marlin gushed.

"Hmph! Serves the delinquent right, handling all that heavy lifting," Piers senior huffed.

"Oh yes... He definitely deserves all I can give him," Marylin said with a smug expression, her voice dipping an octave. "All that, and more..." She treated her family to a somewhat artificial smile.

"Unlike some people around here, right boys?" She asked in a tone that a more alert person might identify as bitter sarcasm.

"Uh huh Mum," Piers Jr. said.

"Of course dear," Piers Sr. responded. Both father and son stared at the telly. Marylin smiled.

"In fact, I think I'll have him take care of the laundry upstairs... I'll be watching the telly upstairs, you won't hear a thing...!"

"Sure Mum/dear, whatever," son and father replied in unison. Marylin sighed, shaking her head, before she picked up the phone.

Genetics... It was a bit of curse, but there was light in her life again! A light by the name of Harry Potter. He was her savior...

Dudley, or Big D as he was known, looked around at his gang buddies with a smirk.

"Gotta thank that freak for this..."

"Yeah!" Piers said with a smirk. "Whenever he comes around my mum practically throws me out of the house!"

"What're they making him do, Big D?" Another young thug asked.

Dudley snorted. "Looks like they got him working his arse off for them. He's always coming home exhausted, goes right to bed."

"My sister's had him over every day for the past week," another thug said. He shook his head. "Lazy tart, always wanting him to help her with lifting things..."

"Gotta say thought, ever since this started getting out and coming home been so much easier!" Piers enthused. "My mum's always so relaxed when I get home, she doesn't care if I'm late!"

"Guess the freak does come in handy," Dudley begrudgingly said. "Now c'mon, Joe'll have the good stuff today..."

* * *

The Vauxhall Astra in police livery pulled up to the curb, and a moment later PCSO Diane Carver of the Surrey Police emerged. She was a stern looking woman, with short black hair closely cropped to her neck. Her uniform did little to conceal an athletically fit and trim body. She marched up to the door of Number Four Privet drive, and rang the bell. A few moments later, Vernon Dursley opened the door.

"Can we help you, officer?" Vernon asked.

"Yes... I need to speak with a Harry Potter. He lives at these premises, does he not?" Officer Carver asked. Vernon's fat face gained a grin that threatened to split it apart.

"Oh yes! Yes! Just a moment... BOY! GET DOWN HERE!"

Harry soon arrived at the door, looking a bit confused. "Yes Uncle Vernon?"

"Mr. Potter?" Officer Carver said. Harry nodded. "Good. I'm Officer Carver, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Is he under arrest?" Vernon asked with quite a bit of hope. Carver raised a prim and intimidating eyebrow at the man, which made him back off a bit.

"No, I merely wanted to question him. There are a few things about the neighborhood I was asked to look into by one of your neighbors, Mr. Dursley," she said, eyes narrowing slightly at Vernon. She looked over at Harry and her gaze softened a little.

"This is merely questioning, Mr. Potter, I assure you. You have been charged with no crimes whatsoever."

Harry looked at his relatives, and then at the policewoman. Few hours at the Dursleys, few hours at a police station.

"All right, let's go."

Not exactly a tough choice, he reflected, as he allowed himself to be led to Officer Carver's car. He sat in front, and Officer Carver started the Astra up, driving off.

"So, what's this about, Officer?" Harry asked. Carver glanced at Harry.

"Please wait until we arrive," she said. Harry nodded, and looked out the window as the buildings passed by. Eventually they stopped at a small house some block away. Harry looked over at the Officer in confusion.

"Step out of the car," Carver ordered. Harry obeyed, and waited by the car until Carver got out.

"Follow me," she said, and headed for the door. A bit confused, Harry nevertheless followed.

"Er..."

"It's my car," she answered, as though knowing what he was going to say.

"Yes ma'am," Harry said. Carver opened the door and entered the house. Harry followed.

"Go into the living room, please," Carver ordered. Harry nodded, and walked in. He froze when he heard the door shut and lock behind him. He turned around.

"Ah... Officer Carver, what's this all about...?" Harry asked.

The policewoman smiled at him, and pulled her hat off.

"This questioning is in regards to some... Remarks a Miss Ruth Tylor has been making at the local coffee shop, an establishment I often frequent," she said, taking a step towards him. Harry found himself taking a step back.

"Ah... Yes?"

"Regarding certain... Skills the nephew of one Vernon and Petunia Dursley at Number Four Privet Drive possesses," Carver continued, removing her gloves next. Her jacket slid off next, dropped carelessly on the floor as she stepped closer. Harry stepped back again.

"Um... Y-Yeah...?" Harry got out, feeling both extremely nervous and very, very aroused. Officer Carver unbuttoned her blouse, and then shook her shoulders, letting the garment slide off behind her as she pushed Harry further into the room.

"Regarding, what was it she said...?" The woman said aloud, undoing her belt and pushing her regulation skirt to the floor. She easily stepped out of it, along with her shoes. Now left in a bra, panties, and hose, she closed the distance between herself and Harry with a smile. Harry felt his back hit the wall, literally and figuratively as Officer Carver ran her finger over his chest.

"Oh yes... Your ability to shag her cross-eyed... Over and over and over again," Carver purred. "Your cooperation in this... Investigation would be most appreciated, Mr. Potter..."

* * *

Several hours of "investigation" later, Harry was laying in bed, once more, with an attractive woman curled up contentedly against him.

"Mmmm..." Diane nuzzled his cheek. Harry smiled and leaned his head against hers.

"So... How was that...?" Harry asked softly. Diane chuckled throatily.

"Mmhmhmhm... Beyond my expectations, Mr. Potter," she responded.

"... Might be a strange question, but... Why me?" Harry asked. Carver was silent for a moment, her fingers playing with his hair for a moment before responding.

"We all get lonely, Mr. Potter... You strike me as someone who knows this very well," she murmured. Harry turned his head to look her in the eyes. He smiled, a bit self-consciously.

"Yeah... I know, Officer," Harry said.

She smiled back. "Call me Diane while we're spooning, Harry."

"So... I only call you Officer during sex?" Harry asked with a small grin.

"That's right Mister," Diane murmured, kissing his lips playfully. She turned and stretched her arms over her head with closed eyes and a soft groan. She felt cold steel close around her wrists, and her eyes snapped open. She looked at her wrists, now bound by handcuffs. She looked over at Harry, who was grinning.

"Oh, you cheeky bastard," Carver said with a smirk.

"That's Mr. Potter during sex, Diane," Harry returned, using her bound wrists to pull her into another kiss.

* * *

Bright and early next morning, Vernon Dursley's doorbell rang. Grumbling a bit, he got up from the breakfast table and got to the door. To his great disappointment, his nephew was there with Officer Carver.

"So, nothing to the claims huh?" Vernon grunted, with great disappointment.

"There was... Quite a lot to them, but nothing that warrants any further action," Carver drawled. "However, I may need to question Mr. Potter in the future... We have a number of activities in this area. He could be of great use to us..."

Vernon harumphed. "Very well... Go on and get breakfast, you lazy brat, or you get nothing!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry replied with a small smile. He gave Carver a smile, which she returned, before he entered the house. He glanced out the kitchen window to watch her go... And shivered a little as she swung her handcuffs around on her fingers, quite deliberately.

* * *

Hermione Granger did not usually eavesdrop on people. She prided herself on her sense of discretion, she's wasn't some kind of nosy busybody like Parvati and Lavender.

However, when the name "Harry" came up in a conversation being held in the Grimmauld Place library, she couldn't help but stop to listen.

"I'm telling you Sirius, at this rate, your godson's going to kill himself," Tonks said. Hermione's eyes flew wide, and she pressed her ear against the door. Harry was in trouble?

"Well, he is at that age..." Sirius said. Hermione's jaw dropped. He sounded like he was trying not to laugh! Harry committing suicide was a source of amusement?

"He's going through three, four, sometimes five of them a day, Sirius," Tonks said. "I swear, he's like a machine!"

"Oh, so you've been peeping on him then?" Sirius teased, some pride in his voice.

"I-I have not!" Tonks sputtered. "I'm just doing my job!"

"And getting a little enjoyment out of it, hm?"

Tonks coughed. "Well... Maybe a little... I mean... Is that _normal_, Sirius? He's like... Like _this!_"

Sirius whistled. "Well... Considering the stress he's been under, it's not surprising he's been going off like this." He growled. "Dumbledore's policy's probably driving him crazy... And hey, there are few better ways of alleviating stress than this..."

"The amount of stress he's been relieving is bloody incredible," Tonks said in awe.

"Interested?"

"... Maybe a little... Though I've heard he's kind of taken."

"By who? Hermione? Nah, she wouldn't be interested in him... Not quite mature enough for that, I'd expect," Sirius said.

Hermione bristled. Not mature enough? She wasn't the one letting Harry do something dangerous and-and thinking it was a _good_ thing! Who knew what he could be doing!

She turned and stormed off to get her things. She knew enough of Harry's history to find where he lived, and she was going to help him, Dumbledore's orders be damned!

* * *

Jennifer and Gwendolyn Green really hated their names. Their mother, recent immigrant to the UK, had thought that having rhyming nicknames in English would be cute, and hence the Song sisters were known as Gwen and Jen.

Growing up half-South Korean in Surrey in the United Kingdom was not the easiest thing in the world, especially when you were both quite intelligent and were happy to prove it. They too had gone through primary school isolated and alone, but their attempts to befriend fellow outcasts, such as one Harry Potter, had been met by bullying and intimidation.

Still, that the little boy kept going through life despite the atrocious treatment of his relatives had been a bit of an inspiration to the two lonely girls. Mythological heroes who prevailed over their challenges were the bread and butter of Ben, and Jen simply couldn't tolerate injustice. Their father had gone to the police a number of times after their mother insisted he look into things, but he'd always come back without a memory of their request.

So, as the years went by, the Green sisters couldn't help but look at Harry Potter out of frustration... And then a different kind of frustration when he returned from that strange school of his at the age of 15. He seemed so alone, so broody and dark.

Jen, who had gotten into the emerging punk scene at secondary school, found his pain to be rather attractive, while Gwen just wanted to comfort him... Preferably with her body.

"I can't believe this," sighed Gwen as she stared wistfully out the bedroom window of Number 5 Privet Drive. "He's being worked out there... Shirtless... In this sweltering heat..." Her eyes glazed over a bit.

"Yeah..." Jen was looking herself over in the twins' full length mirror, tightening her largely black leather outfit's straps. "We need to get him away from there..."

"Like, calling the police?" Gwen asked. She huffed. "That never works..." She may have been the "good twin", but cynicism ran deep despite her more conventional appearance.

"No, I mean... Getting him over _here_," Jen emphasized. She turned around and grinned, running her hands through her short cut, spiky black hair. She thought the pink highlights would be nice and shocking-Her father certainly had disapproved, but his wife had seen to his attitude.

"Like... To...?" Gwen blushed furiously. "But-But-!"

"Oh come on Gwen! A boy like that... He's been at that terrible school for boys all year, after year..." Jen shook her head. "Maybe we can't get him out of his house, but we can certainly make it more pleasant to be here."

"But which of us...?" Gwen blinked. Jen grinned. Gwen blushed again... But looked thoughtful.

"Well... We do share everything," she said. "But this boy...?"

"Can you imagine something that would make him happier?" Jen asked. She snorted. "Trust me Gwen, twin girls are every man's wildest dream come true..."

"How do you know?" Gwen asked.

"I hear things..."

"So, you haven't-?"

"Of course not," Jen snorted. "But I know what to do..."

"Once we get him here," Gwen retorted. "How do we do that?"

Jen rested a hand on Gwen's shoulder, and pointed outside. Gwen stared as the woman at Number Eight Privet Drive, Mrs. Ayola, walked up and smiled at Harry across the fence.

"Every day he goes off to fix _someone's_ something, or do a chore," Jen said. "And his relatives send him off because they seem to enjoy working him like an mule." She grinned. "We just need him over to... Fix something."

"Ohhh..." Gwen nodded enthusiastically. She then grinned as she looked over the furniture.

"I know just what needs to be fixed, too..."

* * *

"Hm? Yes, the boy knows how to fix wood... You say your daughters' chair and desk set seems to have fallen apart? Yes well, don't let your wife pick out the furniture next time, that's a man's job! ... All right, I'll send him over." Vernon hung up and looked over at his nephew with a scowl. The boy had been wearing funny little smiles over the past few weeks. He didn't know why-All this hard work should be breaking his spirit.

He'd even tried shouting "DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!" at him while he mowed the lawn, but nothing doing-He couldn't rattle the boy.

"Boy! Number Five wants you to fix some furniture," Vernon said. "Get over there! And don't use any of my tools!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry said, heading out the door. He was able to greet Mr. Green as he left for his job, and he then entered Number Five. He looked around.

"Ah... Hello?"

"Oh, hello Harry," a pretty girl with long black hair and blue eyes said. She was about his height, with an above-average bustline (for a girl her age) contained in a simple white T-Shirt, and worse a rather short skirt. She smiled warmly at him.

"Hello Harry," the girl's twin said, grinning cheerfully. She wore ankle-length boots with a myriad of straps, and her hair was short, spiky and had pink highlights. She wore fingerless gloves, a black tanktop, and a leather skirt.

"Don't you remember us?" The more conservatively dressed twin ask. "I'm Gwen."

"I'm Jenny," the short-haired twin said. "Primary school, remember?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said. "Vaguely..."

"Well, that's all right," Gwen said, taking Harry's arm. "We can catch up upstairs."

"Er, upstairs?" Harry asked. Jen took his other arm and grinned.

"Yeah... Our furniture kind of fell apart," Jen said.

"Might have been bouncing too hard on it," Gwen said with a blush.

"Bouncing?" Harry asked as he was led upstairs. He was acutely aware of how close the twin girls were, as they squeezed against him on either side.

"Oh yes... Same with our beds," Jen purred, her face incredibly close to his. "Why... Who knows how long until they break?"

"Structurally speaking, they seem sound," Gwen supplied as they entered the Twins' bedroom, "but we'd... Like to test them out before you fix anything else."

Harry looked at the window-The blinds were pulled down. The two girls hadn't let him go. There were no tools.

He had the sneaking suspicion that something that had been happening a _lot_ lately was about to happen... But he would never assume anything.

"All right... Um... How do we test these beds then?" Harry asked carefully.

Jen smiled. "That's all right..."

The twins pushed him down onto the nearest bed. Gwen pulled back and pulled off her shirt.

"We'll show you how," Gwen added.

Harry smiled. That awful feeling that something terrible was just around the corner kept fading and fading away... At least in regards to his interactions with women.

* * *

Minerva McGonnagal was usually a very composed individual. But she came into the hospital wing at Hogwarts with a rather glazed expression to Pomphey's eyes. The nurse summoned up some "medical alcohol" from her cabinet-The best scotch she could find-and set it on her desk. McGonnagal sat down across from her old friend, who poured her a glass.

"Everything all right, Minnie?" Pomphrey asked. Minerva threw back her scotch, and gulped it down. She set her glass on the table and shook her head.

"I was keeping an eye on Potter today..."

"Oh Merlin Minnie," Pomphrey gasped. "Is-Is he all right? What happened?"

"He's... Fine," Minerva said. "He's been keeping busy... Very busy..."

"How?" Pomphrey prompted. The Transfiguration professor reached up and pushed her glasses up to rub her eyes.

"Minnie..."

McGonnagal sighed. "He's been getting out of the house of those dreadful people to do... Work for various neighbors in the nearby houses."

"Well, that's good," Pomphrey said approvingly. "The further he is from those people, the better! I cannot believe Albus continues to put him with those-those monsters! He had scurvy when he came to Hogwarts, did you know that? And evidence of a broken arm, malnutrition...!"

"He seems to have recovered nicely," Minerva mumbled. Pomphrey raised her eyebrows.

"Minnie?"

"... He's been shagging women in the neighborhood," Minerva said, as she poured herself another glass of scotch and downed it. Pomphrey's eyebrows went nearly to her hairline.

"Women? As in _plural?_"

"As in _all_ of them, save his aunt and the elderly," Minerva clarified.

"You're sure?"

Minerva shot her friend a dirty look.

"Poppy, I've just spent the last four hours-_four hours_-watching my student be called in from house to house to do 'chores'. These chores consisted of shagging women up to three times his age over kitchen tables, schoolgirls home for vacation against walls, housewives on washing machines..." She shook her head and poured herself another shot-Only to find that Poppy had beat her to it and was gulping her own spirit down.

"Merlin... For _hours_?"

"He did a woman and her twin daughters for one... Non-stop..." She stared at Pomphrey. "Did you see... _Anything_ like this?"

Pomphrey actually flushed. "Well... He's recovered very nicely from the malnutrition... Er, he's always going to be a bit small-"

"Not from what I saw," Minerva mumbled. Pomphrey coughed. Minerva stared at her.

"... Well, I am his healer for all intents and purposes," Pomphrey said. "And, well... Noting something like _that_ isn't medically significant..." She scowled. "And I have treated thousands of students, I have nothing but a professional interest in the subject, it's just a note!"

"Yes... Just a note," Minerva mumbled. Pomphrey poured them both a glass, and both witches downed the liquor.

"... Bit of a shame," Pomphrey murmured.

"Poppy!" Minerva scolded. The nurse smirked.

"Really Minnie, you're not going to fool me with that act," she admonished.

"So? I have no interest aside from the..." Minerva thought about it. Pomphrey nodded sagely.

"Same here..."

"Yes, quite," said Minerva. "It wouldn't be professional."

"Not in the least," Pomphrey agreed. The nurse's smirk widened ever so slightly.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of speculation though. It's very healthy," Pomphrey said. Minerva snorted.

"We're a bit old to be doing that sort of speculation, Poppy."

"Hardly. Minerva, you're in your 70s and physically you're in your 40s, and I'm only a little younger than you. We're still in sexual prime thanks to our magic," Pomphrey pointed out.

"Gossiping about a student of ours is hardly mature though," Minerva pointed out. Pomphrey nodded.

"Yes, you're quite right... Should we fantasize about Severus then? I've always felt that with a good shower-"

At Minerva's glare Pomphrey smiled wickedly.

"Or there's always Filius, more than one Ravenclaw girl has come to me, asking for certain medical information on part-goblins..."

"Poppy, I'm warning you-!"

"Lockhart may have been a twit, but he was quite the looker wasn't he?" Pomphrey added. Minerva glared at her before she shook her head, stern gaze fading away into a chuckle. Pomphrey joined into the laughter.

"It doesn't help that he's gotten the best parts of his parents," Pomphrey said with a smile. "Lily's eyes, James' looks..."

"An intensity all his own," Minerva added with a sigh. She shook her head. "He's been turned into a weapon... He's dangerous..."

"It's little wonder girls flock to him, in this world or the Muggle one," Pomphrey sighed. "Magic or no magic, no girl can resist a powerful alpha male..."

"Let's hope he stays that way," Minerva said.

"Mm?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "You know Albus... If he thinks something isn't for the greater good, he'll find a way to bollocks it up."

"Indeed," Pomphrey said. "But enough about him... Care to perv over some medical photos of Mr. Potter like the lonely spinsters we are?"

"Poppy, how much have you been drinking?"

"Enough to consider that very thing before you got here."

"Fair enough. Lead on."

* * *

About an hour later, Harry left two exhausted sisters in one bed, as he slowly got to his feet. The goofy grin on his face just wouldn't leave, and he couldn't muster up the guilt to smother it.

He looked over the broken desk and chairs, and found (to his complete lack of surprise) that they were easily put back together by hand. All the same, he did it as well as he could-He owed Jen and Gwen that much for an hour in heaven. He even cleaned up the room before he slipped out.

He walked downstairs, only to see Mrs. Green waiting for him with a soft smile.

"Hello Harry," she said quietly. "How are my girls?"

"Ah... Fine," Harry said, a bit nervously. She nodded very slowly.

"Mmhm... You know Harry, there is some laundry in the basement I could use help with... You don't mind staying on for a bit longer, do you? I'll make you lunch," she said.

"Er, sure," Harry said. "Um... If that's what you want..."

"Oh yes," Mrs. Green nodded, taking Harry's arm and guiding him to the basement door. "Among... Other things..."

Harry tried very, very hard not to grin. It was so very, very hard. He didn't want to look like a chauvinistic pig or presume things... After all, how likely was it that the mother of a girl... Girls... He had just finished shagging for the last hour wanted to shag him too?

... Again?

"Here we go," Mrs. Green said as she approached the washing machine. Deftly, she stripped out of her attire and dropped it into the machine-All of it. Harry stared, stunned, as the beautiful woman turned to look at him with a smile. She was slimmer in build than her daughters, with a comparatively smaller bust. Her black hair was shoulder length, and arranged to obscure one half of her face, giving her a seductive look. She was slightly shorter than him, and her skin was creamy and smooth, and-Was that a tattoo?

"A little vanity, I'm afraid," she explained, rubbing the ink markings just above her mound. She smiled impishly.

"What... What does it mean?" Harry asked.

"'Best Temple,' roughly translated," she explained. Her eyes twinkled. "I have a very high opinion of my vagina, Harry... My husband, well... Does not." She looked away for a moment, and then back at Harry with a small grin.

"I would love a second opinion," she purred.

Harry's clothing soon joined hers in the washing machine, and Mrs. Green was soon on the floor, crying out in her native language as Harry dove right in.

Knowing Parselmouth seemed to come in handy in a LOT of situations-Not just talking to snakes...

* * *

After lunch, the twins woke up, and insisted Harry mow the lawn and take care of a few issues in the garage. Mrs. Green woke up after that, and had Harry deal with some cleaning in her bedroom. Finally, the twins finished up with Harry in the living room, and Mrs. Green gave him a very warm send off in the kitchen before he walked (slowly) back across the street to Number Four.

His relatives ignored him and he ignored them right back as he headed upstairs and collapsed on his bed.

"Preck?" Hedwig inquired from her cage. Harry looked up at her.

"Tired," he said.

"Preck preck?"

Harry sighed. "Sun-Yi... Jen and Gwen..."

Hedwig ruffled her feathers. "Prek prek!"

"I... I didn't mean for it to happen," Harry insisted. "It just kind of does..."

Hedwig gave him the owl equivalent of a scowl. Harry slowly pushed himself up and opened her cage. He then opened the window.

"Go on, before they hear you," Harry said. "And if you need to, head to Ron's-He'll take you in."

Worse came to worse, they could fly in and get him out again. Hedwig bit Harry's finger (a bit harder than usual) but hooted reassuringly and then headed out. Harry sighed and slumped down on the bed again.

Downstairs, he heard a knock at the door, and Uncle Vernon rose to answer it.

"What do you wa... Uh..." He heard Vernon start mumbling about something and slowly head back to the living room. A few moments later, his bedroom door opened. Harry looked back to see who it was, and was immediately treated to a strong hug.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried, the door slamming shut behind her. "I came here the second I heard about it-Are you all right? Are you okay?"

"H-Hermione?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Thank God, you're all right," Hermione went on. Her hands roamed his body, feeling him through his thin T-shirt. "Anything broken? Bruised? Cut?"

"Uh, well-"

"Now I know what you're thinking, Harry James Potter, and you should stop it right now," Hermione said sternly. "Cedric's death was _not_ your fault-You couldn't have known-And beating yourself up about it or-or doing dangerous and reckless things to compensate for your guilt are wrong!"

Harry blinked, as Hermione, finished with her examination of his torso, pulled his wrists up to check them over.

"You're not cutting yourself..." She pushed his sleeves up to check his elbows. "No puncture marks..." She looked up at him. "You're not harming yourself intentionally?"

"Harming myself wha?" Harry tried, but Hermione rolled right past his question.

"Don't lie to me, Harry James Potter!" She said sternly. "Some of Dumbledore's people have been keeping an eye on you all summer!"

She leaned in close to sniff his face, and Harry's anger at Dumbledore keeping an eye on him and _not_ telling him was sidetracked by the realization that Hermione was in his room, she was very physically close to him, and underneath those school robes she had a very nice pair of breasts. Not huge, just slightly larger than a handful he guessed, but very firm and round-looking and-No! Come on, this was Hermione, he shouldn't be thinking those kinds of things!

"They said you've been going through-through four or five a day! What have you been going through?" Hermione demanded. "You don't smell like you're smoking... Or drinking..." Her eyes widened. "You're not taking pills are you? Or-Or drinking cough syrup?"

_Four or five a...? Oh. Ohhh..._

"It's not what you think Hermione," Harry said quickly. Hermione's eyes radiated concern, compassion and fear on his behalf, but also a fair amount of warning. Harry found himself drawn to the gaze-She looked rather sexy right now, especially bent at the waist.

"Then what is it?" Hermione demanded.

Stall, stall, that was the ticket.

"Listen, it's nothing bad. I'm not hurting myself, honestly," Harry insisted. Hermione sat up, crossing her arms underneath her breasts.

"Then what is it?" She asked.

He was getting aroused, having a girl alone in his room like this. Too much sex with very willing women. Being in such intimate proximity with someone he found attractive was causing him to switch a bit to autopilot, as his eyes became intensely focused and he traced every part of his best friend.

_God, how did I not notice this until now...? And people say Ron's the slow one..._

Harry mentally shook his head and focused, instead, on ways of possibly diverting Hermione's attention and wrath.

"How did you find me anyway?" Harry asked.

"The phone book," Hermione said flatly. "I took the Knight Bus."

"What about your parents?" For that matter, why weren't the Dursleys running up to scream about her presence?

Hermione pulled out a pack of Post-It notes and showed them to him. "I made these last spring. Charmed them with Muggle-Repelling Charms. Stick them to a door or wave them in a Muggle's face and they'll forget what they were doing and go do something else. I stuck one on your door-Your _relatives_," she said with a look of extreme distaste, "won't bother us." She set them down on his desk.

_Good_, Harry thought, his eyes locked on her lips. He found himself wanting to know what they tasted like... And if her hair was kinky everywhere...

"So tell me Harry... What have you been doing?" Hermione asked, adjusting her arms unconsciously to push her breasts up a bit higher.

... Oh what the Hell, the Dursleys wouldn't bother him...

Hermione mistook Harry's hesitation for shame, and her gaze softened as she realized that maybe she was being too hard on her friend.

"Oh, Harry... I'm sorry I just barged in like this... Look, whatever it is, you can tell me..." She sat down on the bed next to him, and squeezed one of his hands comfortingly. "I would never judge you."

"Well," Harry began, turning his head and looking intently into her eyes. She blushed.

"Ah, yes...?"

Harry closed the distance between them, and kissed Hermione deeply. She froze, eyes wide.

"Mmmngh...?"

Warmth spread throughout her body, and her eyes became half-lidded. Distantly, she found her arms going around his shoulders as he lowered her to the bed.

He broke the kiss, and Hermione tried to protest but he cut her off with another deep kiss, his hands caressing her cheeks... Then her neck, then...

"Oh-Oh my..."

Quite some time later, a happy Hermione cuddled up next to Harry, her head resting on his chest.

"Mmm," she sighed. She slowly looked up at him with a lazy smile. "This is..." She considered her words. "A change of pace," she decided on. Harry chuckled.

"Oh...?"

"Barely any interest in girls at school..." She kissed his nipple, enjoying the resulting sigh her made. "Is it because you're so... Busy here during the summer?" She teased softly.

Harry stroked her back, enjoying the purr she made. "No... This... This is all new," he said. "Moment I came back this year... Women were all over me..." He sighed. "No idea how..."

"Maybe the Dursleys sucked all the sex out of the neighborhood, and you brought it back," Hermione suggested with a small giggle. Harry made a face.

"Ugh... Far as I'm concerned, they adopted a pig and gave him a wig for their son."

Hermione giggled, and then looked up at Harry seriously. "Harry... About this...?"

Harry stared back. "Yes?" A sudden thought occurred, and he felt some fear. "Um... I mean... We're... We're still friends, right?"

Hermione laughed softly. "Of course we are," she confirmed. "This... This doesn't change that."

"Oh thank God," Harry sighed in relief. "I mean... Um... After all this... Ya know, sex... It's... It's kind of automatic now..."

"Remind me to keep an eye on you at school then," Hermione said. "Wouldn't want you going on autopilot around, say, Professor McGonnagal..."

Harry made a face. "Hermione...!" She giggled again, and Harry was suddenly struck by how relaxed his best friend was. _Maybe this'll help her...?_

"What I mean is... Well... After this..." Harry tried. Hermione looked intently at him.

"Do... Do we become girlfriend and boyfriend?" Harry asked. Hermione was thoughtful for a bit, before she smiled.

"Harry... I would like that, but... Well... There's no need to just, you know... Go into that." She kissed his chest. "Let's just... See what happens... All right?"

Harry nodded. Hermione sighed.

"You can still screw other women if you like."

"Oh... Um... I'd stop if you wanted me to," Harry added. Hermione nodded.

"I know... But you were scared of asking and I decided to help you relax," she said. She shook her head. "Honestly, what was Dumbledore thinking, wanting you to be alone this summer? All that stress you've been under, it's no wonder you started shagging every willing woman you could find!"

"It's not all bad," Harry said with a grin. Hermione smirked.

"Not in the least," she purred, as she scooted up to kiss him.

* * *

Below in the garden, underneath an invisibility cloak, Tonks pulled the Ominoculars away from her eyes and shivered.

_Merlin... I don't care what Dumbledore says, I am getting myself some of that... Now, I just need a game plan for how to do it..._

* * *

"Nymphadora…" began the wizened old wizard. He had just arrived at Grimmauld Place when the young witch asked to talk to him in private. She looked harried and flushed, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. He smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

"I do not believe that Harry needs training. Indeed, most likely he just needs time to recover from seeing a fellow student killed in front of him. And he should be able to enjoy what is left of his childhood before worrying about anything. No, at this time it would be best that we just let him be."

"Professor…" his counterpart began slowly - she was utilizing whatever shreds of self control she had at this point not to deck the old man. Maybe her self control was strained because of the fact that she disagreed what the Order was doing to Harry and the outright dismissal by their leader was driving that point home. Maybe it was because he used her first name. Maybe it was because she just had to watch for two and a half hours as Harry shagged a pair of twin sisters, who actually had a bit of resemblance to her, if you squinted, into unconsciousness, followed shortly by their mother and then his best friend, voyeuristic self gratification simply paled in comparison, and the old coot **Was. . Up!** She had a good idea which one it was, but thinking about it didn't make it better - _at all_. She all but scripted this and this _had_ to work. One more week of guard duty like _this_ and she might be coming onto Sirius as well, not just Remus.

"I have seen the way his family has treated him, we all have." She held up her hand when the Headmaster made to interrupt. "No, let me finish! There's no point in arguing about the past, what's important is what happens now. Harry is a good guy - that he didn't eviscerate Fudge after his screw-ups with Sirius AND the Triwizard Tournament is proof of that. But he's been left alone since then - since he watched a friend die in front of him because he was too weak to save him. Or so he thinks. What happens when a powerful wizard like him, left to stew in anger and feeling depressed, decides that what he lacked was power, and maybe gets a taste for it?"

Seeing the man hesitate, she knew she had him. She almost grinned. _Onward!_

"He experienced a number of things men twice his age haven't, especially in his more recent past, and staying at and around Private Drive with the way things are might wear him out at some point. Everyone has a point of no return, where they can't keep on going the way they had, and while we might not have seen Harry's, it is there. I just want to be there so I am around before that happens, and maybe give him a hand, or two, and teach him how adults deal with pent-up emotions."

Dumbledore had closed his eyes, rubbing his eyes in a sad, collective fashion, completely unaware that the other occupant of the room was utilizing all her metamorph talents not to end up on the floor in stitches due to the purposefully applied doses of double entendre.

_Oh, wait until I show Sirius this memory. This is too good._

The reply came after nearly a minute of silence. "You wish to teach him how to fight, I take it?"

"A bit, yes. But that's not the main point. I just want to make sure he invests his abilities in worth-while causes, things that pay off over time, you know." _Things that keep giving and giving and.._ "..and maybe teach him a few tricks he doesn't know, it's not like it'll hurt"_ in a bad way _"..anybody."

He gave off a sigh, and, his eyes finally opening, gave a nod. "You are right, of course. Then, Nymphadora, you are in charge of Harry well-being. Please take care of him where this old man cannot."

Watching her all but skipping out of the room, he leaned back in his seat with a small smile. Watching someone so happy, nearly glowing from the chance to help a small child, proved just how much selfless good there still was in people.. proved that this fight was a fight worth fighting for.

* * *

Purple eyes looked over the heavily expanded backpack carefully.

A full change of clothes? _As in 'one'? Check. _

Fishnet suit? _Check._

Stamina potions lifted from the Order HQ? _After being worked up for two weeks during guard duty what would now follow will have at least one of them needing those. Check._

Enough preserved food and drinks to last two people for two weeks? _Check._

Message to the DMLE that she was coming down with something big and might be back in a week? _Check._

Ropes, blindfold, and an extra large invisibility cloak for any public events? _Did say I was going to teach him a few tricks. Check._

Perfect.

She smiled outwardly. Inwardly she was laughing in a way that would have frightened Voldemort.

Now he was all hers! By the orders of one of the most powerful people on the planet, no less!

She absentmindedly reversed a few joints in her right arm and patted herself on the back. _Tonks, girl, you're a genius. _

One crack later, and she was gone.

* * *

_Just a bit of crack based on Rorschach's Blot's "Odd Ideas" (Specifically Chapter 61: Loophole and Affairs) in the Omake entitled "The Ritual". I decided to just redo this whole thing because I jumped the gun on the first upload. So, hopefully this is better put together. _

_And again, should you want more, just ask._

_And now, for an omake._

OMAKE: Snape Sneers

Severus Snape was not one to be late, no matter how much he might loathe the people at his destination. Or the destination itself. Or, well, everything.

Still, he had to admit, watching Black make a complete and utter fool of himself was always entertaining. Though the spy, naturally, wanted to know why.

"What is that fool doing now?" Snape asked flatly. Sirius was groaning and moaning, holding his head tightly as he staggered around the drawing room of Number 14 Grimmauld Place. Hestia Jones, Remus Lupin, and Emmeline Vance all watched him.

"He's been like this for an hour," Hestia said.

"Not sure what he's on about," Remus said, mentally rolling his eyes.

"Ohhh... Arggghhh... Godfather... Senses... TINGLING...!" Sirius gasped.

"What," Snape asked.

"My Godson... He's soooo... MANLY!" Sirius cried, throwing his hands up into the air. He glanced at Snape and his assorted observers. "Mm? You say something?"

Snape sneered, which was not unusual in of itself-He always sneered. However, he had a language of sneers (that he had published, as the Muggles would publish anything these days as serious literature) and right now his sneer said "Sirius Black, you and your pitiful godson are fools, and your godson is the farthest thing from a man anyone could possibly imagine. Furthermore, your reference to _Ranma 1/2_ is trite and cliche. You sir, fail."

Or he could have been hungry. The author is at a loss-He didn't get the teacher's edition of _Snape Sneers_ after all and given his problems with foreign languages it was a foregone conclusion he wouldn't be good at it just after glancing through the book.

While the author cursed his learning deficiencies, Snape turned and stalked off dramatically, his cloak waving out with equal thespian weight.

"I can't believe you wasted an hour acting like an idiot and chewing scenery just to make a joke he wouldn't even get," Hestia shook her head. Sirius smirked.

"Oh no, he got it all right... Didn't he Remus?"

Remus checked his copy of _Snape Sneers_, and nodded. Hestia and Emmeline stared. The werewolf shrugged.

"I always like to keep up with my, er, colleagues various pursuits," Remus said. The two women continued to stare.

"Right... I'll just be over here," he said, turning and walking out of the drawing room. Both women looked over at Sirius.

"So, what was that all about anyway? Your godson I mean," Emmeline asked. Sirius grinned, and produced some photos Moody was all too happy to provide. How he did it, Sirius wasn't going to ask... Well, not right now anyway.

"I'm glad you asked... Take a look at these babies..."

Quite some time later, Hestia and Emmeline left the room. Hestia's red cheeks were brighter than usual, and Emmeline's eyes seemed to be stuck wide open.

Professor McGonnagal was passing by, and observed the two witches with a raised eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"Er, nothing Minerva," Hestia said quickly.

"Just, you know... Things," Emmeline added. McGonnagal slowly nodded.

"Harry?"

The two witches stared. McGonnagal smirked.

"I have been a teacher for quite some time, you know..."

That and she had noticed the photos sticking out of Hestia's robes, but she wasn't going to point that out.

"You... You know?" Emmeline asked. McGonnagal nodded, and sighed.

"Come with me... Poppy will have some scotch waiting for us... I suspect we'll need it..."

_Thanks for reading! Please forgive the formatting issues, FF dot Net is rubbish.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year_...

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke up to the shaking of his shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes, getting a look at Hermione as she sat up in bed next to him.

"Ah... Harry? We need to talk," she said. Despite his social, well... Retardation, Harry was a man. And all men have an instinctual feeling of dread when they hear those words.

Except for Gordon Brittas but those are extraordinary circumstances as any viewer of British sitcoms will tell you. Which Harry couldn't as he didn't watch a lot of TV, therefore he was ignorant of that particular pop culture reference.

"About?" Harry asked, sitting up to look her in the eyes. Hermione blushed and looked away.

"I've... I've been doing some thinking," she said. "And, well... You really should stop having so much sex."

Harry blinked. "I... What? But last night-"

"Last night I had lost count of my orgasms," Hermione murmured, blushing rather cutely. "Now I'm a little more clear headed..."

"Well, why?" Harry asked. "It's not hurting anyone."

"Harry, what if you catch an STD?" Hermione asked.

"We do have access to magic medicine, Hermione. Besides, it's not like I haven't had protection," Harry insisted.

"Really?"

"... A few times," Harry said with a shrug. Hermione scowled.

"A few?"

"Well... They keep breaking," Harry confessed.

* * *

"Darling, is there a reason you've been spending so much time in the bathroom lately?" Mr. Tylor called.

"Um... Just some feminine issues, dear!" Ruth Tylor called back. "God, how can he shoot that much? It's like a bleeding firehose...!"

"What was that?"

"Nothing darling!"

* * *

"I can see how," she mumbled. She shook her head clear of those distracting thoughts and gave Harry a very intent look.

"But that's just one issue. What if you get someone pregnant?"

"Hermione, why would a girl have sex with me if she didn't have protection? That'd be pretty irresponsible of them, wouldn't it?" Harry asked.

"So you're going to trust them to be responsible for you?" Hermione asked flatly. Harry shrugged.

"Come on Hermione, most of them have husbands... I don't think they're going to forget to use birth control or something. And their daughters are in the know too, so I don't think I have to worry about it."

* * *

"Oh bloody hell," Officer Carver muttered, as the pregnancy test turned blue. She thought it over, then sighed.

"Well, I suppose I have no one but myself to blame..."

* * *

"What about committing adultery? You're breaking up marriages!" Hermione tried.

"If a husband can't keep his wife happy, then she shouldn't stay miserable," Harry said. "You wouldn't want to be locked in a loveless marriage would you?"

Hermione stared at him. So far she was zero for three. She supposed that all this "stress relief" had allowed Harry to actually focus and use his brain more efficiently. Still, she wasn't going to go down without a fight...

Again...

"And are you going to keep this up when you get back to Hogwarts?" She asked. Harry smiled.

"Only if a girl really wants it..."

"Oh for..." Hermione sighed and shut her eyes. Harry reached up and wrapped his hands around her.

"Hermione, come on... Nobody's gotten hurt, nobody's getting hurt..."

"It just feels so degrading," Hermione huffed. "It's like you can have all the sex you want without any consequences and women have to hide it!"

"Hermione, who are the men in this neighborhood going to kill if they find out?" Harry asked.

* * *

"Daddy, why did you buy a shotgun?" Jen asked her father.

"Don't know, just felt like I needed one," Mr. Green replied.

* * *

"... Okay, point," Hermione allowed grudgingly. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. Harry smiled.

"Don't be like that, Hermione... I do care about you, you know. No need to be jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Hermione said quickly. Harry stared at her. She flushed.

"Well... Okay, maybe a little..."

"Hermione, you are my best friend," Harry said. "I do, um, love you, you know that right?"

Her cheeks colored and she nodded. "I know... I love you too..." She frowned. "So... If I wanted to date another boy rather than you...?"

"I'd be fine with that," Harry said. Admittedly, he felt a sting of jealousy about it but he kept it down. "I mean, Ron is very-"

"Harry? No," Hermione said flatly. "Not Ron."

"What? What's wrong with Ron?" Harry asked, feeling the need to defend his friend.

"Harry, we have nothing in common aside from you," Hermione said. "We'd never work out."

"Yeah, but you fight a lot..."

"So do you and Draco, and I doubt you want to date him," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh God!" Harry shuddered. He glowered at her. He shook his head. "All right then. No Ron."

"Good."

"... One of the twins...?" Harry offered.

"Harry, if I'm inclined to begin dating someone other than you, trust me, I'll tell you," Hermione said. "At the moment..." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I can't really see any reason to try someone else... After all, we haven't even gone on a date."

"No, we haven't," Harry agreed. "Er... About what you said-?"

"Yes Harry, I suppose you can still shag other women," Hermione grumbled.

"If it makes you unhappy, I can stop," Harry said.

"Oh no, it's fine..."

Harry gently turned her to face him and kissed her deeply, applying a little Parselmouth magic to it.

"Mmm... I'm still not happy about it," Hermione said after he broke the kiss.

"I know, I just like kissing you," Harry replied.

"So, you're not going to shag me into changing my opinion of the situation?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry said, "I'm going to shag you because we'll both enjoy it."

"Just as long as that's clear," Hermione moaned, as she was pushed down onto her back.

* * *

Tonks grumbled below. Bloody Granger girl, she was hogging him! Where did she get that stamina anyway, she was a bookworm by all appearances!

Oh well... She'd have her turn. She couldn't stay forever... And if she tried, well, she _was_ an Auror. Not a lot the little bushy haired brat could do tied up...

On the other hand, hmm... She was kind of cute, and Tonks did have an appreciation for her own sex. Maybe she'd tie her up and let her watch-It'd be educational for both her and Harry, and really, according to Remus and Sirius you could never separate the two. Loyalty was an admirable thing to the former Hufflepuff... Though there was no reason not to have some kinky fun about it, Tonks concluded with a grin.

* * *

While the Muggle repelling charms did hold, Harry and Hermione were getting hungry. And, not wanting to have to cook for the entire Dursley family, Harry went downstairs with Hermione's Post-It notes. It was entertaining to see his horrible relatives keep walking to the kitchen, but then abruptly remember they had something else to do. Their frustrated, hungry faces elicited no pity from Harry.

Upstairs, Hermione sighed happily as she lay in Harry's bed. Even with her concerns regarding his new popularity, she couldn't deny that the experience felt good, no, _brilliant_.

_Why didn't I become his girlfriend sooner?_ She mused.

_Wait, I'm not his girlfriend now..._ Hermione's mind argued.

_So? Easily changed. We just ask him,_ Hermione replied.

_And if he says no?_ Hermione's mind asked.

_Why would he?_ Hermione thought back.

_Well, let's face it... We're not exactly heavily stacked... We're not super model level hot... We are rather pushy and bossy..._

_Oh, right... All that,_ Hermione thought back. _Well, he probably isn't that shallow..._

_Why would he settle for us? Honestly, I'm just his best friend-_

_Oh would you stop that?!_ Hermione's libido flared up. _He took our virginity and banged us like a drum until we lost count of our orgasms! He clearly thinks we're attractive enough to do it, so stop this emo whining and start working on your Kegel exercises!_

Hermione's inner debate was put to an abrupt end when her entire body froze as the result of a cast spell. Tonks' face swam into view above her, and she grinned down at her.

"Wotcher Hermione... Hope you don't mind, but I've been watching Harry shag his way through the neighborhood, and since he doesn't seem too disinclined to turn down a hot bird, I thought I'd join in. Don't mind, do you?" She asked with a grin.

_Yes I do!_ Hermione thought back furiously. _Damnit I want to get shagged again!_

"Bloody hell, you lasted longer than any of the other women," Tonks said, pulling Hermione out of the bed and leaning her up against the wall. She grinned. "You're going to wear him out at Hogwarts, ya know... And don't you deny it, I heard your screams."

Hermione tried to express that she _couldn't_ deny it because she was petrified, but all she managed to do was blink rather angrily. Tonks chuckled.

"Well, I'm sure he won't mind you sharing his bed... Nor sharing yours, there's a trick around the wards," Tonks said with a grin. "Don't you worry though, I'm not stealing him away... I just thought that since you love to learn, you'd appreciate seeing a more experienced woman with Harry. Lord knows there are _plenty_ to watch, but none magic, you see?" She draped her invisibility cloak over Hermione, and pulled off her backpack.

"Now, given how he performs, I think I'll just start with something... Easy," she said with a grin.

A few minutes later, Harry came upstairs, carrying breakfast. "Hermione I-" Harry stopped short, his jaw dropping.

Hermione laid on the bed, wearing purple fishnet... And nothing else. She was lying on her stomach, her legs playfully held lightly crossed above her, as she licked provocatively at a lollypop.

"Hey handsome," Hermione purred. "That for me?"

"H-H-Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Who else could it be?" Hermione asked with a wicked smile. "Now... Let's save that for later... I want my dessert _now..._"

Harry carefully set the breakfast platter on his desk, quietly shut the door, and then pounced on Hermione, causing her to squeal in glee.

Three hours later, an exhausted "Hermione" cuddled up next to Harry, humming in contentment as she ran her finger down his chest.

"How was that?" She whispered. Harry grinned.

"Brilliant... How'd you...?"

"Honestly Harry... I read about it..." She nuzzled Harry. "I want to be the best girlfriend I can be, after all..."

"G-Girlfriend?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded.

"Yes... If you'll have me," she said. Harry's head couldn't have resembled a bobble head doll's more than if he wore a plastic sheen.

"Y-Yeah!"

"Just don't hesitate to ask me to shag any other girls, all right?" Hermione said.

"All... All right!" Harry said with a grin.

"Now... Can you go get me more food? I'm feeling rather peckish," Hermione said. Harry nodded, pausing only to pull on some clothes before he went out the door. Tonks stood up, her features transforming into the usual form she wore around Hermione. She pulled back the Invisibility Cloak, smiling at Hermione, who was blushing practically down to her toes.

"I hope it was educational for you, Hermione," Tonks said with a grin. "Thanks for letting me borrow your face for a while..." She kissed Hermione's frozen lips, and then moved to whisper in her ear.

"I'm not after him to be mine, completely... Just don't hoard the wealth, all right? It's much more fun to share..." She pulled the cloak back on, and just a moment before Harry entered the room again, she canceled the spell.

"Hope you don't mind, took me a bit to make the sandwiches-GAH!" The food fell to the floor as Hermione pounced, slamming Harry onto his back.

"COCK. IN ME. NOW," Hermione growled, practically tearing Harry's jeans open to mount him. She would deal with Tonks later-Right now she really, really, _desperately_ needed relief.

Harry, a bit confused, nevertheless had no complaints about this turn of events. Most of the food was still good afterward, too.

* * *

That night, at Number 14 Grimmauld Place, the Order of the Phoenix was holding a meeting. After Dumbledore welcomed them all and Minerva read the minutes of their last meeting (which had included a lovely spread provided by Mrs. Weasley), the floor was turned over to Snape. His report was very easily and simply boiled down to a simple, albeit run-on, sentence:

"Voldemort is gathering his forces and laying low, he doesn't trust me enough yet to give me anything important, and I'm just wasting your time because I'm the one with the _really_ tragic backstory and the rest of you are useless."

"Thank you Severus," Dumbledore replied with a smile, while the rest of the Order tried (valiantly) to not roll their eyes. "Now then, Sirius?"

"The House is seriously in good shape and secure." Sirius quickly nodded his head. "The recent invasion by the wracktspurts has been driven off, and the doxy rebellion has once more been crushed. All that's left is the gnome incursion in the basement."

That got more than a few snickers in the background, even as Snape sneered. Sirius smirked back. Usually, his weekly reminder to Dumbledore about whose clubhouse this actually was had an undercurrent of bitterness to it. Not this time. Oh no, Sirius was looking forward to quite a show tonight.

"Now then... I have asked those members with free time to keep an eye on Harry Potter this last month... Anything to report?" Dumbledore asked, ignoring Snape's sneer at the mention of the Boy-Who-Lived with habitual grace.

Sirius carefully arranged his hands in front of his face, and noticed Tonks' smug look in the background. There was a slight tension in the air that Moody promptly broke.

"The boy's been busy." Moody offered with a smirk as his eye whirled around the room. "He's spent a lot of his time fixing the plumbing all around that muggle neighborhood. I've never seen so many dripping bits in my whole life. And they just keep coming back to him for more, no matter how much servicing he gives em."

Sirius coughed rather loudly.

"My word Sirius, are you all right?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, I'm fine... Please, continue," Sirius said, his face quite solemn but his eyes betraying his mirth to everyone but Dumbledore.

"Of course," Dumbledore said with a nod, and looked out to the crowd again.

"It's not just the plumbing. Why, I don't think there's a single cherry on that street that the boy hasn't plucked." Kingsley spoke up, his face completely straight. "And they keep having him come back, to make sure everything is kept properly fertilized."

Tonks couldn't hold back her smug expression. She was glad she'd chosen a seat near the back for that very purpose.

"I wasn't aware there were cherry trees on Privet Drive," Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully. "Live and learn, I suppose…"

"I must admit, he's also very very handy around the homes. I don't think I've ever things lubricated that much." Hestia spoke up, managing to keep her face completely straight. "They seem to glisten all on their own, whenever he shows up!"

"Any accidental magic reports?" Dumbledore asked, concerned. "He hasn't been using any, has he?"

"It's all completely natural from what I've seen." Moody almost leered as he glanced over at Tonks, smirking broadly. "No magical enhancement in the least."

It was only thanks to her Metamorphmagus skills Tonks was able to avoid blushing. She smirked back. "He's quite good with his hands..."

Snape snorted. "It figures that menial labor is his forte..."

With practiced ease, the majority of the Order resisted rolling their eyes at Snape's statement.

"He's been having to do a lot of laundry too." Kingsley added. "Lots and lots of dirty sheets."

"The Dursleys aren't working him too hard, are they?" Molly Weasley asked, concerned.

"No, I'd say they're the only ones he's not really doing any work for... Thank Merlin for that." Hestia spoke up as she couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

"He does enjoy being out of the house, Albus," Minerva pointed out, her lips twitching slightly. "The neighborhood is treating him better than _those_ people ever did..."

"Arabella, what do you have to report?" Dumbledore asked, turning to the spinster Squib in the corner.

"... I have honestly never heard of a boy with such stamina, Albus." The woman responded as she lightly tapped the side of her cheek. "He's doing all that work, and yet, he just keeps coming back for more with a smile on his face. I can't never heard of anyone going like he does. And it's only seemed to do him a world of good."

"Remus?" Dumbledore asked, knowing of the concern Lupin had been giving to the son of his best friend.

"I think it's the gardening." Remus mused aloud as he would lightly stroke his chin. "He seems to truly love planting his seed...s in every home on the block. And he's certainly gotten everyone's attention with his skill in doing it."

Tonks couldn't help her laughter at this.

"Mm? Nymphadora, what's so funny?" Dumbledore asked.

Sirius was barely able to keep his own face straight at this point, though he certainly wasn't alone on that front.

"Ah... Just a funny joke I remembered, nothing important," she said with a grin.

"Really? I could use a good laugh, would you kindly share it?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.

Tonks bowed her head, shoulders shaking.

"Um, it's ah..." Tonks paused a moment, before grinning sheepishly. "Sirius tells it better than I do."

"Sirius?" Dumbledore asked.

Sirius paused a moment, before turning and smirking softly at Tonks. "Oh, dear cousin, I'm so glad you trust me with that! Why, it's so good to know I have the trust of one of my favorite members of my family... Whatever would I do without someone like you to help me, *ahem* take care of my godson?"

"Merlin pray we never find out," murmured Minerva.

"Sorry Dumbledore, it might not be appropriate for an audience," Sirius said with a smile. "Besides, the reports must go on, correct?"

"Ah, good... Anything else to report?" Dumbledore asked. A kind of game had sprung up, and every member of the Order wanted to one-up the others. After all, aside from Snape's dramatic, self-important monologues and seeing who made the best snacks, these meetings were boring and unproductive.

"Well, there was the bit where Harry was taking care of those twins..." Kingsley mused aloud. "They really seemed to rather enjoy the way he handled the curves... of their furniture... Their mother was so impressed, she had him stay further and take a look at some of her own before helping her make sure her plumbing was still up to par."

"He did seem to have a run in with the Muggle Aurors," Emmeline contributed. "Even went off with one in her car."

"Was it anything serious?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, he was handcuffed," Emmeline said. "And he was questioned and tested... Thoroughly, all through the night. In the end, she was far more satisfied than I've ever been at the end of an investigation." She almost blushed with that admission, but kept her face firmly controlled. "She even allowed him to handcuff her later on."

"Muggle police are worthless," Snape muttered.

"Oh? Sounds a bit strange," Dumbledore said. "Are you sure there's been no infiltration? No use of Imperio on anyone in the neighborhood?"

"Most assuredly not. The investigations were far too muggle for it to have been a Death Eater behind it."

"Still, very strange," Dumbledore mused.

"The investigation seems to be ongoing," Hestia contributed. "She can't get enough... Information, I mean."

"Hm, this sounds unfortunate," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps this policewoman needs to be Obliviated."

"I think that would be a very, very bad idea." Hestia cut in quickly as she shook her head. "Harry has gotten into a routine of greeting her... and if she suddenly stopped remembering him and the investigation, then well... Things would get... complicated for him."

"What is this investigation about, anyway? Harry's not a criminal!" Molly demanded.

"As Emmeline said... he's HELPING with the investigation, Molly, he's not the subject of it. He's a very, very valuable source that's helping her drill... for information," Hestia quickly covered. Minerva's lips twitched significantly at this point.

"Well, as long as he's not in danger of prosecution, I see no need to interfere," Dumbledore said. He looked around the room. "Anything else?"

"Tonks, be sure he gets plenty of fluids, won't you?" Moody spoke up smirking at the girl. "With all that work, I'm sure he needs it."

"Mm? Nymphadora, did you actually make contact with Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows rising.

"Oh, no she hasn't, but she's the closest of us to his age, and we DO want to make sure he's staying healthy, right, Albus?" Moody spoke up, his non-magical eye winking at Tonks where Dumbledore, Snape and Molly couldn't see.

"Ah yes, of course..." Dumbledore frowned. "There is one issue though... Miss Granger apparently disregarded my request, and visited Harry at his home." He looked about the room.

"While she poses no danger to Harry, I would appreciate knowing more about her visit. Tonks, you were on duty when she arrived, what can you tell me?"

"My fault." Sirius raised his hand and shrugged slightly. "She apparently took some of the things I was talking to Remus about out of context. She thought he was in danger from his relatives and them overworking him. So, naturally being a good, intimate friend, she immediately went to make sure he was safe..."

Sirius paused a moment, before eying Dumbledore neutrally. "You don't have a problem with a young lady making certain one of her best friends is all right, do you?"

"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "But given that she is known as a friend of Harry's, I'm simply concerned about her being used, unwittingly mind you, as a means to cause him harm. How did she locate his home?"

"She looked him up in the phonebook." Tonks said simply.

Silence. Dumbledore nodded.

"Ah... I see... How did her visit go?" He asked.

"Aren't you at all concerned that she found him in so simple a way, Albus?" Minerva asked flatly.

"Not at all... She meant him no harm, therefore, she could enter. However, those who meant to do him harm following her might lead to danger for the rest of the neighborhood," Albus explained. "And Harry would no doubt be drawn into it."

Even Severus looked skeptical of this, but Sirius decided to get things back on track. He'd worry about getting Harry somewhere safe later.

"So Tonks, how'd the visit go?" Sirius asked.

"Well, she expressed her concern about how much effort he's been putting in out of the house," Tonks said, barely repressing a snort. "So he proceeded to… Assure her that he was in no danger… Even proceeded to demonstrate some of the things he's learned, things he's doing… All to convince her that he is in… " Her eyes glazed a bit, "perfect form. I feel he was… _Very_ convincing," her voice ended in a drawl. Many of the other witches in the room developed glazed looks of their own.

"Indeed," Dumbledore observed. "Well, if there is no further business...?"

"Oui, one more beet, Dumbledore," Fleur Delacour spoke up. "I was wondering if I could not participate in guarding 'Arry? I owe 'im my sister's life-It is the least I can do for 'im."

Tonks immediately glanced over at Fleur, eying her speculatively before looking back at Dumbldeore. "I'll be happy to show her the ropes a few times."

"Certainly Fleur," Dumbledore said with a smile, pleased that so many volunteers were willing to protect Harry. "You may start on Monday."

"_Wonderful,_" Fleur purred.

"Well, as it is late... Sirius? What are you doing?" Dumbledore asked.

"Just... Stretching my arms," Sirius said with a wry smile, as he managed to keep himself from doing a victory dance. "I'm just... overcome with all the concern for my godson's well-being."

"I'm afraid you cannot leave to guard him, Sirius, it would be far too dangerous," Dumbledore said with true regret.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to be in their more than capable hands." Sirius quickly nodded his head. "And I'm sure they'll take extra special care of him."

"Don't worry Cousin... We'll make sure he doesn't regret a single moment of his summer," Tonks said with a grin.

Dumbledore felt his old heart swell with pride. He'd had fears about the reborn Order's ability to function, but now he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, even if Harry wasn't here, he was bringing them together in the fight against the Darkness. He was filled with hope.

As well as some bemusement when later, after the meeting had broken up, Sirius and the Weasley twins began chanting Harry's name in celebration in the drawing room.

* * *

_A bit shorter than the last one, but they can't all be several thousand word long epics can they? Hope you enjoyed it._

_Special thanks to Chilord for his help with the Order of the Phoenix meeting's dialog. Check out his stories and review them when you get the chance.  
_

_Now, here's another omake by yours truly, which will be the beginning of a side-story to explore what Ron is up to._

Omake: Pros and Cons

Ronald Weasley was not having a great summer. Sure, at the start, things seemed pretty good despite the looming threat of a returned Voldemort. The Ford Anglia came back, and for some reason stuck with him. Since the matter involving the car had been settled in the Ministry of Magic, and since no one else was willing to mess with it, Ron had kept it.

Sure, it wasn't as maneuverable as a broom and fixing it had taken time, but he now had a means of transport that was all his own-Something that made him feel like he was actually independent. The twins even made him some charmed licenses and insurance papers so that if Muggle cops pulled him over, they'd let him go on his way.

Then came the price all young adolescents with their first cars usually paid-Becoming a taxi service.

His mother loved being able to go shopping in the Magical or Muggle neighborhoods (Muggle food was a lot cheaper after converting their Galleons to Sterling) and being able to bring it all back without needing her entire family to help out. The twins began asking him to pick up all sorts of things for their new business ventures-Muggle and Magical items. Ginny wanted to go shopping and to visit her friends. His father wanted him to pick him up stuff from the local Muggle junk yard. The car didn't attract much attention in either world, so Ron was being used as a shuttle service for _everyone_, leaving him with almost no time to himself.

However, there was a kind of turning point, though it certainly didn't look like it at the time. Percy actually needed him to help him move _out of the house_ after that big row. Ron almost refused, but Molly angrily insisted, and so Ron had carted Percy off to his new apartment.

A new apartment where Penelope Clearwater was eager to greet them. A girl Percy had broken up with to make their mother happy. Confused, Ron had looked over at Percy, who had merely shrugged and smiled.

"Sometimes we have to hide our intentions, Ron, to get what we want," Percy said quietly. Ron blinked, and Percy smirked, almost Slytherin in it's smugness. Ron absently recalled that Percy had spent a lot of time with the Twins before they'd begun making trouble.

"Take care," he said, and departed with his things. Penelope shot Percy a look Ron really didn't want to think about a girl giving his brother and the things it might imply-

"Gaaah, bloody hell!" He groaned, holding his head as the Anglia drove down the road. "Stupid brain, why the hell did you come up with that?!"

A part of his mind that sounded very much like Hermione suggested that since he was going through puberty and Penelope Clearwater was a very nice looking girl, he'd think about shagging her. Even if Percy had gotten to her first (Lucky bastard). This bit of deduction done, Ron tuned out the Hermione-part of his brain per usual. She really was a nag.

Sure, she'd sprouted up last year and he'd figured out she was a _girl_, but all things considered, dating her when he didn't want to be nagged by her for the rest of his life was probably leading her on. After all, he was better than that. Better to inflict her on Harry-He didn't seem to mind her nagging.

"Maybe some blokes get off on that sort of thing," he imagined aloud as he came to a stoplight. A loud roar startled him, and he looked out his window to see a bright green glowing car pull up alongside him. The tinted window rolled down, and Ron was treated to loud, pulsing music and jeering laughter.

"Hahahaha! Wot's that you got there, ya pikey? Little wind up toy?" The Muggle hooligan laughed. Ron scowled, and scowled even more when the bastard revved his engine. Ron returned the favor, and he got some hoots.

"You're a nutter you are! But all right!" The driver shouted.

"All right what?" Ron asked in confusion. The driver smirked.

"A race is what you want, isn't it? What you'll get is a massacre, that little tub!"

The Anglia's engine growled, and revved itself a few times angrily. That was okay though-Ron was just as angry. He looked ahead, waiting for the light to change even as the hoots and jeers became louder.

The light turned, and both cars screamed off.

Now, the Muggle driver could be forgiven for thinking that Ron's Anglia was just a run of the mill 105E Ford Anglia, the top speed of which was around 79 kilometers an hour. He had no way of knowing that among the various improvements Ron's father had included was a charm that reduced engine friction and strengthened the overall frame of the car. As well as one that quite intentionally increased the speed.

In that light, Percy could be said to be his father's son. A little misdirection, a little fumbling, and most wizards would pass you off as a nutter, all the while said nutter was doing some quite interesting things.

Suffice it to say, Ron arrived at the next stoplight a full thirty seconds ahead of the Muggle car, and looked extremely smug as they finally caught up.

"How... How the bloody hell did you do that?!" The driver asked in shock. Ron's smirk grew wider as he noticed that the ladies in the back of the car were looking at him with genuine interest.

"Magic, of course," Ron said with a grin. He dared give a wink to the ladies in the backseat-They giggled. As the light turned green, Ron drove off with a smile.

Okay, now there were _three_ things good with having a car, even if his family did treat him like a house elf: Freedom, showing up arrogant berks, and impressing birds.

The last two going hand in hand was even better.

_Also, I have updated the previous chapter to include a Dramatis Personae for this fic, that will help you visualize the various players involved. Thank you.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year_...

* * *

"Hnnn..." Hermione purred happily as Harry ran his hand over her back. She found herself arching it in order to press her skin harder against his palm.

"I thought Madam Pomphrey removed all the cat from your body?" Harry asked. Hermione purred again and nuzzled him.

"I may have to see her again about that," she said.

"I dunno, I think it's kind of sexy," Harry observed with a grin, continuing to stroke the girl lying next to him in his bed. Hermione purred again, eyes closed as she savored the feeling.

Inside Hermione's mind, a large theatre was filled to the brim with Hermiones in military uniforms. In front of them was a stage, a large British flag hanging against the wall. A Hermione dressed as a general came out, and every woman there stood at attention. She returned the salutes she received, as another Hermione barked out "Be seated!" The assembly sat, and General Hermione looked around at her troops.

"Now, I want you to remember that no bitch ever kept from getting knocked up by fucking her boyfriend day and night! She got out of bed, got herself some damn contraceptives, and then came back to fuck him some more!" She narrowed her eyes and looked around at them.

"Women, all this you've heard about us being a manproof bookworm is a lot of horse dung! We love to fuck! We love to please our man, and be pleased in turn! We love a man who can handle his wand well-Both of them! One orgasm, two orgasms, three, four, five! And we pay extra attention to making sure our man Harry is left begging for more! We love being the best, and hate being the worst! I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a woman who lost and laughed. That's why we have never failed to be the best! That's why we've never failed to make Harry cum! The very thought of leaving him hanging is hateful to Hermione!"

The assembled Hermiones nodded, but stayed silent out of respect.

"Now, an army is a team," General Hermione went on, waving her riding crop. "It lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of bollocks. The bilious bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for the Saturday Evening Post don't know anything more about real battle than they do about fornicating!"

She paused, and looked every Hermione she could see in the eyes. Satisfied with what she saw, she continued.

"We have the finest mind and equipment, the best spirit and the best women in the world. I actually feel sorry for that poor afterglow, those poor bitches. We're not just going to shoot them: We're going to murder them, and rip out their guts to grease our tank treads on the way to the brain!" She narrowed her eyes.

"We are going to have Harry Potter's babies, all right, but we're going to do it on our time! The libido doesn't get to decide-We do! We're going to rip through that afterglow like crap through a Threstral, and when we do, we're gonna grab ourselves those birth control potions, run right back, and ride him until he's all ours!"

General Hermione harrumphed, and scanned the crowd again.

"Now, some of you girls, I know, are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you will all do your duty. The Afterglow is the enemy. Wade into them. Spill their blood. Shoot them in the belly. When you put your hand into a bunch of goo that a moment before was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do." She nodded.

"Alright now, you bitches, you know how I feel. Oh, and I will be proud to lead you wonderful girls into battle – anytime, anywhere."

The General gave her women one last look.

"That's all."

She turned and walked off, the picture of military discipline.

Outside, Hermione found herself humming a bugle call, before she snapped out of it.

"Harry…"

"Mm?"

"I'm going to go pick up some things," Hermione said. She rose from the bed and began pulling her clothes on. She glanced at the clock-7 am. She smiled-She'd lost track of the time, and could barely stand.

"Er, where you going?" Harry asked.

"Just getting some birth control," Hermione said. Harry's eyes widened.

"Birth control? You mean-?!"

"Harry, Harry, shhh," she murmured, pressing a finger to his lips. "It's all right. I'll just take some potions... And bring back a few more." She smirked at him.

"Don't you dare react like that. I won't have a coward for a boyfriend... Or the father of my children," she added.

Harry was left staring in shock as Hermione headed out, humming cheerfully. Harry shook his head again, and lay back with a sigh.

"I will never understand that girl," he decided, though he was smiling all the while. He looked outside and stretched.

"Well... Better get going... Have a long day ahead of me," he sighed.

* * *

Who knew mowing the lawn could be so relaxing? Harry smiled as he pushed the old style mower along, quite easily ignoring his uncle's attempts to degrade and insult him.

"DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! YOU ARE DOOOOOMED! DOOOOOM! DOOOOM!"

He seemed to be running out of material, actually. Usually he didn't resort to shouting "Doom" until he was desperate.

"DOOOM! Damnit boy, haven't you heard a single word I've said?! DOOM!" Vernon shouted. Harry just looked over at him, raising a single eyebrow.

"Mmm? You say something, Uncle Vernon?"

Damnit! That response was so very cool! Vernon's face cycled through several colors, before he smirked evilly.

"Why yes, boy! Guess what _you_ get to do?"

"Could it be more chores?" Harry quipped. Vernon's smirk became evil.

"Yes... You're going to be put through the ringer, you are! Every single house on this block wants you to do chores for them! You'll be at it all day, and _all night_, and we won't take you back in until tommorrow! How's that sound, boy? Feeling so confident now?"

Harry stared at Vernon for a long time, and Vernon felt that at last, his damn, freakish nephew's spirit had been crushed into powder. His mind shattered, his will demolished! He would be _normal_, subservient, proper! He was...

He was hugging him.

"Thank you Uncle Vernon! I'll never complain again!" Harry grinned. "Which house first?"

Vernon stared. He had a really, really hard time forming words, he was so shocked.

"... The Ayolas..." Vernon managed.

"Thanks! See you tommorrow!" With that, Harry headed into the house. He emerged a few moments later carrying a backpack, and he headed off, waving goodbye to his relatives. Vernon stayed in the yard, a frozen statue. Petunia came out of the house and stood next to him, a dazed look on her face.

"He... He just kissed me on my cheek and hugged me," Petunia said.

"He hugged me and thanked me," Vernon said. They looked at each other.

"Do... Do you think we broke him?" Petunia asked. Vernon shook his head.

"I... I need a pint."

"I'll join you," Petunia muttered, as they both went back into the house. What a _freak!_

* * *

Exactly one hour later, Harry was laying in bed with Rose Ayola, both enjoying the post-coital atmosphere.

"Mmmm... You've gotten much, _much_ better," Mrs. Ayola sighed, her fingers playing with his hair. Harry smiled back, reaching up to take her hands into his own.

"Thank you," he said honestly. "But um... Well..."

"Yes Harry?" Mrs. Ayola asked.

"I just... Well..." Thinking back to Hermione's questions about this, he dredged up his courage and decided to ask her in turn.

"Why?"

Mrs. Ayola considered the question silently for a while, before she sighed and smiled.

"Harry... I'm sure you've heard of happily ever afters, haven't you? Prince Charming rides off with the princess and nothing bad ever happens again? Well..." She shrugged. "It didn't turn out like that for me, I'm afraid."

"Why don't you leave your husband then?" Harry asked quietly.

"... He was my friend before we got married... And... I suppose we should have stayed that way," Ayola considered. "But we were young, and impulsive, and I didn't realize what the problem was until it was far too late." She smiled gently. "I suppose what I need is... Some passion."

"That's where I come in," Harry said, his tone emotionless. Mrs. Ayola sighed.

"Not... Not just that, Harry... There's something very, very special about you... Something that's drawn me in from the moment I saw you." She smiled and cupped his cheek. "I like you... A lot."

Harry smiled back. "Well, um... I like you too... A lot."

She laughed, and Harry slowly rose out of the bed.

"Harry... Why did you ask me that?" Ayola asked, as Harry got dressed.

"Guess I... Well... I'm trying to understand all this... That and um... My girlfriend asked me something similar," Harry admitted. Mrs. Ayola raised her eyebrows.

"Your girlfriend?" She asked.

"Ah... Yes... She knows about... This," Harry said.

"And... She's okay with it?" Rose asked. Harry couldn't help a grin.

"Er, well... Shagging her for about twelve hours seems to have made her partial to the idea..."

Rose's eyes shot wide open. "Twelve... _Twelve_... Twelve _hours?_"

"Er, yeah..." He checked his watch. "I need to get to my next house..." He smiled at her. "See you later." He finished pulling on his clothes and headed out, as Mrs. Ayola sat in her bed, staring after him with glazed eyes. One thought ran through her mind.

_When is my husband's next business trip?!_

* * *

His questioning of Mrs. Tylor was done during his "chores".

"Oooh... R-Right there, right there, haaa...!" She called, bent over the sofa.

"Haa! Haa! M-Mrs. Tylor, haa... Wh-Why do you want me to shag you?" Harry managed to get out.

"Oooh! Y-You want a list? Aaahhh!" Mrs. Tylor groaned, bracing herself with her hands and pushing her hips back against his. "Ohhh... Y-You open me up, so much, haa... S-So much better than my husband, hnnn!"

"Haaa! Haa! Y-Yeah?"

"Yeaaahhh... And, aahhh, you shag me, ooh right there! J-Just right, right, RIGHT THERE! YESSSSSS!"

Needless to say, Mrs. Tylor wasn't much for further conversation. Neither was Harry, for that matter. An hour later, Harry left a dazed, smiling housewife on the kitchen floor.

"Mmmm..." She rubbed her belly with a sigh. "Full stomach always feels good..."

The thought of pregnancy crossed her mind, and she giggled at the thought.

"Hmhmhmhm... Not likely," she murmured. The boy did cum a _lot_, but sheer volume wasn't enough to do it. So really, why waste money on birth control? Not like her husband was going to get in the mood any time soon...

* * *

Mrs. Simhalan also preferred to conduct her discussions with Harry while having him perform the requested tasks.

"Ooooh... M-My husband is impotent," she moaned, as she bounced on his lap and Harry reclined in the armchair in the living room. "N-No seed left... Haaa... I-I'm just hitting my sexual pri-Ooh! Y-Yes, there...!"

"Mmmph... Rike dis?" Harry asked with a full mouth.

"Haa! Yes, yes that's good!" Mrs. Simhalan gasped, as she moved up and down a bit faster. Harry found it more difficult to latch on, but his lover relished the friction of his mouth and teeth against her breasts.

"Haa... Haaa... S-So, I just, aahh, want to feel-_harder_-sexy, aahhh, aaahhh, AAAHHHH!"

She held him tightly, and Harry remembered to take a deep breath before his face was swallowed up by her bosom. He'd very nearly been smothered the last time, which had firmly established erotic-asphyxiation as a fetish he would _never_ explore.

Mrs. Simhalan came down from her orgasm with a sexy croon, and kissed Harry on the top of his head.

"Mmm... Thank you Harry... That was wonderful," she murmured. She treated him to gentle kisses across his face, before slowly getting up.

"Haaa... No problem," Harry sighed back with a smile, before slowly getting up.

"Have to go to your next job then?" She asked. Harry nodded.

"Mmhm..." He turned to pick up his pants.

"Sure I couldn't convince you to stay a while longer?" She asked, with a pout in her voice.

"I don't know, I mean I really need to-" Harry began as he turned to look at her. His sentence turned into a fragment upon seeing her sexy smile, and her legs back behind her head.

"... I could... Stay a little longer," he squeaked.

"Good..."

* * *

Marylin Piers stared in some disbelief at Harry, before pointing at the picture of her husband and her son on the mantle.

"Harry... Why do you _think_ I want you to shag me silly?" She asked flatly.

Harry stared for a long moment, and then nodded.

"I understand completely."

"Good. Now, grab my hair, pull me down to my knees, and tell me I'm your bitch."

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

Cynthia Rockwell-Smith attempted to tell Harry why she was doing him, but her mouth was full for most of their "meeting". However, she too noted the local boys and asked him if _he_ really wanted her to date and/or shag any of them.

Harry immediately felt sick, and his libido very nearly died. Cynthia, however, was quite capable of bringing it back. Several times.

* * *

"We wanted to help you, so much," Gwen said softly, in between kisses.

"Mmhmmm," Jen agreed from below. Harry shuddered.

"Ahh... Uh huh...?"

"But whenever we went to the police, they'd forget our information," Gwen sighed. "We don't know why..."

"Very suspicious, that," Jen added, her hands taking over for her mouth. Harry nodded.

"I... I really appreciate, uhh, a-all this..."

"Trust me Harry, we appreciate it just as much," Gwen said with a smile. "Time to switch!"

"Right, but he's laying down first."

"You're not going to hog his mouth again, are you?"

"Why not, you hog his-"

"Uh uh uh, girls," Sun-Yi said as she entered the room, closing the door behind her. "You are sisters, and as such, you should share."

"Mum!" Jen cried.

"But-But-We're busy with Harry!" Gwen protested.

"I noticed," Sun-Yi said dryly. "But it doesn't mean I can't enjoy myself while I wait my turn, does it?"

* * *

Harry sighed as he left the Song-Green residence, a surgically inoperable smile on his face. Having sex with _one_ beautiful woman was awesome enough. Having sex with _one_ beautiful woman who could go all day with him and was very, very open minded was better. Having _three_ beautiful women shag him in shifts and all at once?

It was hard to imagine it could get any better, though he knew well enough by now that he couldn't actually tell the future. If he could, he'd have let Ron find his own date-Twins! Beautiful twins!

Oh, and save Cedric. Definitely save Cedric.

His good mood dropped down a notch as he sighed. _Cedric..._ Here he was, enjoying all this sex and Cedric was dead. Sure, his life had sucked pretty hard until now, being an orphan, living with the Dursleys, somebody trying to kill him every single year... But Cedric was now dead and it was because of him.

_Now now, stop all that, you know it wasn't your fault,_ a voice in his head that sounded remarkably like Hermione admonished. He imagined her, sitting on a library table covered in books, wearing nothing but a pair of glasses as she scowled at him.

"Yeah, but all the same, I feel bad about it," Harry sighed. "And I guess I feel like I'm just running away from the pain."

Mental Hermione looked over her glasses at him with an expression that was incredibly sexy, albeit slightly intimidating.

_Maybe a little, but it doesn't make you a bad person,_ she said. _Besides, we've been over this before: It wasn't your fault. It was Voldemort's. Blaming yourself won't help._

Harry nodded. "I know... But what will?"

_Knowing that he wouldn't want you to fall into despair because of his death,_ Mental Hermione said. _And that you'll work to defeat his murderer._

Harry nodded. "That makes sense."

_Of course it makes sense,_ Mental Hermione huffed, crossing her arms underneath her boobs and lifting them up slightly. _Also, are you going to imagine me naked every time you think of me?_

"Not my fault the thought of you in glasses and nothing else is incredibly sexy," Harry replied with a grin.

_You should try that with me when I get back,_ Mental Hermione suggested. _I'm pretty sure there's a pair of spectacles in that backpack I brought._

"You are a naughty witch, aren't you?" Harry said. He then felt arms wrap around his waist and a pair of full breasts press into his back.

"I can be if you like," Diane Carver said with a smile. Harry turned and smiled at her.

"Hey Diane..."

"Hey Harry... Have you have dinner yet?" She asked. Harry shook his head.

"Ah... No."

"Come on then, let's eat, my house," she said, leading him to her car. Harry smiled.

"All right..."

"By the way, who were you talking to?"

"Er..." Harry's mind went to the nude, glasses wearing Hermione again. "Just... Myself..." _Sort of_.

Maybe he was a little barmy. Then again, most wizards were, so maybe he was perfectly ordinary in that respect.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a great and terrible wizard by many accounts. A genius, a madman, a leader, a teacher, a great foe and a powerful ally. A meddling twit (which he admitted was much the case, in private).

At the moment he was confused. The various silver instruments he had around his office that monitored the wards around Privet Drive were all behaving in a most peculiar manner. Naturally, magical devices set up for the sole purpose of monitoring wards based on a magical protection that nobody fully understood and were entirely useless now were peculiar period but then that's wizards for you, and Dumbledore in particular: Keep going with a stupid plan that ruins everyone's lives for 'the Greater Good' and believe it'll all turn out lemon drops and Gummi Bears.

Of course, considering that all it would take to stop Voldemort the Muggle way would be a couple of guys with guns or a few laser guided bombs, you can understand his reluctance to deviate from the plan. Sure, it would ruin everyone's lives and get hundreds of innocent people killed, but at least the saga would fill out seven books.

Dumbledore shook his head free of such strange and metafictional thoughts, and considered the conundrum before him. Harry's protection was granted due to being in a house that had his mother's blood. Hence he had been sent to the Dursleys. The wards actually extended out to cover Privet Drive entirely, offering a great deal of protection. Death Eaters might have to actually take the bus in order to attack.

However, it seemed like the wards were now significantly stronger than they were before. By an order of magnitude at the very least. He knew the protection was stronger the more love was in a house, which meant that the wards around Privet Drive were usually... Well, let's be honest, barely functioning.

Now though, they might actually provide some _real_ protection rather than the vaguely-defined kind.

Really, there was only one person to get on the job to investigate this.

"Severus? Come to my office please."

* * *

Dinner was nice. Aside from Mrs. Weasley, Harry couldn't think of anyone else who had cooked a meal for him-And then, not _just_ for him.

"I'm not much of a gourmet, but I do know how to make a good curry," Diane explained as she set down the food. She sat across from him, and smiled warmly. "Go on."

He took a bite of it. His eyes watered and he tried to resist coughing. It was so spicy he felt as though his tongue was being set on fire.

"I like it extra hot," Diane explained, as she dug into her own bowl. "Mmm... Good huh?"

"Y-Yeah... Good," Harry coughed. Diane smiled wryly.

"I could make it more mild if you like?"

"N-No... It's fine...!" Harry managed. He drank down a _lot_ of water.

"You know, it's okay if you don't like it," Diane said. "I'm not a schoolgirl who's going to cry at you not enjoying my cooking."

Harry shook his head. "No... You cooked it... I'm eating it." He took another bite, and swallowed it, struggling not to throw it back up.

"Grrrgh...!"

Diane couldn't help but laugh. "If this is to make me happy about my terrible cooking, you're doing a _wonderful_ job," she said.

"I've had to do, ugh... Worse things," Harry admitted. He took another bite. "Sides... Gaah... I won't be getting any dinner at home... Urk..."

"Ah. Yes. Your family," Diane said flatly. "Very _pleasant_."

Harry laughed and shrugged. "Well... They keep sending me off to 'work' with all of you, so really, maybe I should thank them."

"Maybe you should," Diane said.

Harry managed to finish off the meal, and Diane led him to the couch. They sat down, and Harry enjoyed being held by her. Even with all the sex he'd been getting, simple affection like this was just plain wonderful to the boy who had spent the majority of his life living in a cupboard under the stairs.

It didn't hurt she wasn't wearing a bra. Or that she didn't mind him quite purposely pressing his face into her boobs.

Ah, boobs. Harry felt like he could write whole books on how awesome boobs were. And bottoms. And long hair, and short hair, and ticklish stomachs and tight... Er... And squeezing... Um... And slurping... Wait, why were his thoughts suddenly so Puritan?

_Pussy! Cock! Prick! Arse! Tits! Vagina!_

There, that was better.

"So... What can I do for you tonight?" Harry asked with a smile. Diane sighed.

"Well Harry... There are a few things... But, well... We need to talk."

Harry got an instinctive sense of dread about that phrase, but, being the nice guy he was (and looking forward to shagging the beautiful police officer _after_ the talk) he listened.

"Okay. What about?"

Diane was silent for a bit. "Well... There's something you need to know..."

Oh God, she was married. Or she had a boyfriend. Or something.

"What?"

"It's... Well... It's kind of important..."

"Is it bad?" Harry asked.

"Not exactly..." She fidgeted, and Harry noticed one of her hands clenching slightly out of nerves. "It's... Well..."

Harry's stomach gurgled. Said teenaged boy's face turned green.

"I uh... Um... Urgle...!" He got up and ran for the bathroom. Diane sighed as she listened to the father of her child puking his guts out mere seconds later.

"... Perhaps it can wait."

* * *

_Yes, the General Hermione scene is based on the great movie "Patton". If you haven't seen it yet you should feel horribly guilty for not seeing it. Alleviate that guilt by seeing it. Right now. Yes, now!_

_Next up, continuing chaos and sexy hijinks. Stay tuned. And now, an omake written by Fanboyimus Prime, which is not canon to this story. And as this story is not canon to the universe of Harry Potter, it is double not-canon._

Omake: What Voldemort is Up To

here's an omake on what Voldemort is doing while Harry plays.

Voldemort had a headache. He was learning **that** having a two way connection to Harry Potter was not as good as he thought it would be.

He thought he would be easily able to manipulate the Boy-That-Just-**Wouldn't**-Die. However**,** it turned out he was getting to see the boy's personal life. And Tom Riddle was jealous. He never got that much action even back in his sixth and seventh years in Hogwarts.

It made his blood boil that a boy **without** the devil's luck, **(**something even Tom found the ritual to gain had too high a price**)** was attracting women like a moth to a flame. It just wasn't fair for a child that just had the ability to get out of danger by the seat of his pants was getting all that while he was a Dark Lord and all the women he got were batshit insane killing machines.

And not very good looking ones either. There was Bella but that...didn't work out. At all. He **would** never look at chicken thighs the same way again after that incident.

There were of course using rituals to build a woman,******but just the thought of the memories of his attempts at that made Voldemort shudder.**

There was _Imperioing_ women to do what you wanted but that got boring after awhile. You had to have one hell of an imagination to keep **it exciting**.

Imagination was something the women Harry Potter was fixing things for definitely had in spades.

Then Voldemort's headache got worse. Tom Riddle rubbed his temples and hoped the brat would stop doing all this by the time he was in Hogwarts, or he'd never be able to manipulate him.

Though the upside would be that nearly every male in the school, especially that jealous git Ron Weasley**,** would join the Death Eaters just so they could get a woman. And the red head pig might make useful cannon folder. Or **be easily filled** with potions that turned him into a living bomb and drop him off on Diagon Alley.

Voldemort laughed as he remembered that classic. That one always scared the hell out of the sheep of the Wizarding World. Tom then mused it was too bad Wormtail wasn't as creative without his former friends. Still he had to get that Marauder to work turning former pranks into lethal weapons on his return.

Scaring the shit out of people was the biggest weapon his forces had. Without it... Riddle was afraid that a decently trained group of Aurors could take out his Inner Circle in a fair fight. Or maybe Harry Potter if given half the chance since nothing else had managed to bloody kill him yet.

Of course the rate Harry Potter was going he'd have an army of children in a few years. Something that scared the hell out of Tom Riddle. And was entirely possible.

Voldemort needed a plan to deal with this. And wondered where he could get five kilos of rope, an alley cat, newt eyes, a wedge of cheese and a small cauldron.


	4. Chapter 4

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year_...

* * *

Severus Snape did, in fact, have a life beyond tormenting students and acting the part of a double agent between the Dark Lord Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore. Or triple agent, as he liked to think of himself-He worked for three masters, after all, including himself. It made him feel more like that Kaji Ryoji chap from _Neon Genesis Evangelion_. The only real difference between himself and Kaji (in his mind) was that the whiny boy with the fate of the world on his shoulders had no redeeming qualities whatsoever (he truly felt for Shinji-Saving the world out of sheer determination until finally succumbing to darkness and self-destruction via the machinations of an evil, manipulative man) and he had no hot ex-girlfriend to shag.

The latter, naturally, bothered him more than the former.

"Severus! I'm back!"

Oh yes, and there was one other significant difference between them... Kaji had no roommate.

"Wormtail," Snape sighed, pausing the VHS. Wormtail grinned, an action that naturally made part of Snape cringe inside.

"I got everything on your list!" Wormtail said cheerfully, holding up the grocery bags. "Eggs, milk, cheese-"

"Yes, yes, that's all good Wormtail, now leave me alone," Snape sneered.

Wormtail was oblivious to Snape's annoyance. Then again he was oblivious to many things. "I was thinking of cooking us up a nice quiche! Ham and mushrooms good for you?"

"That's an omelet, Wormtail," Snape replied.

"Oh? I always get those two confused..."

Snape sighed. "Just continue your work, won't you? And don't use any magic."

"Could you turn it to BBC? _Bugs_ should be on," Wormtail enthused. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Your love of that show baffles me, Wormtail-You have little idea of how any Muggle technology operates and yet you insist on watching a show that takes advantage of that fact."

"Oh, and your shows involving giant robots are any better?" Wormtail sneered.

A curse cut a slit in Wormtail's cheek. The traitor slowly looked down at it, and over at Snape, who had appeared to not move at all. Wormtail gulped.

"Ah... N-Nevermind!" He squeaked.

Snape didn't bother to acknowledge him, and resumed watching. He was just up to his favorite part of Episode 19 (The battle with Zeruel), when the fireplace turned green.

"_Severus, would you come see me please?_" Dumbledore inquired. Snape sighed, and stopped the tape.

"Coming, Headmaster," he replied, hiding his annoyance expertly. "Wormtail! Dinner had better be ready when I return!"

"Of course... Dear!" Wormtail joked.

Snape twitched, reminded himself he could not kill him, and headed into the floo after calling out _"Hogwarts Castle!"_. Wormtail poked his head out, and smirked.

"All mine!" He cried cheerfully, hopping into Snape's chair and changing the channel. He eagerly began to watch. "Oh Ros Henderson, you're so beautiful and intelligent," he sighed.

But, as nobody reading is likely to get that reference without looking at Wikipedia, let's move on to the next scene.

* * *

Severus Snape strode into the Headmaster's office, ever present sneer on his face. After all, if it wasn't always on his face then it wouldn't be ever-present and therefore, he might actually look somewhat pleasant. He couldn't allow that, it would completely destroy his cred.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"It was nothing, Headmaster," Snape lied. Dumbledore appreciated the dishonesty-Snape was merely trying to be polite.

"I need you to go to Privet Drive and investigate the wards. They've been behaving oddly," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"Ah... With respect, Headmaster, would this not be a better task for someone else to do?" Snape asked.

"Nonsense, you're quite well versed in wards, and you have a Dark Mark," Dumbledore explained. "If the wards react badly to you, we will know if they are compromised."

Snape blinked. "Headmaster... By badly, you mean...?"

"Oh, I don't think they'll harm you, Severus... Unless you have the intent to truly harm Harry, I doubt you'll feel anything," Dumbledore said.

Snape blinked again. Dumbledore stared back, eyes twinkling. The room was silent save for the soft snoring of the portraits and the ticking of clocks. Seemed appropriate, really.

Snape sighed. "Yes Headmaster."

"Good," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Report back to me as soon as you are done."

_Bugger,_ Snape thought succinctly, as he turned and walked to the fireplace. "Arabella Figg's home," he called out as he used the Floo, his cloak swishing dramatically behind him.

He arrived in a swirl of dark robes, probably his best entrance yet, if he did say so himself... And he did. His piercing black eyes, beak-like nose, waving hair and robes against a backdrop of green ethereal flames? In the words of the Muggles, he looked like a "total badass".

It was unfortunate the only entities around to appreciate it were Kneazels. All of whom hissed threateningly at him. Snape sneered back, and strode from the room out the door.

Well... So far, he seemed to be within the wards without any adverse effects. Appropriate, the thinnest, least effective protection for the least important, most arrogant, most-

_CRACKABOOM!_

Snape groaned, and slowly sat up. Where was he? What had happened?

... Why was his skin singed and stinging, and why were his hands shaking? Why did he smell something burning? For that matter, why did everything look blue?

"Urgh..." He muttered, and slowly rose to his feet. What the hell was what?!

All he'd thought was that Potter was a pathetic, arrogant-

_FWOOSH! CRASH!_

Snape again found himself on the ground... This time, lying in the middle of a lot of broken wood. With another groan, he sat up, blinking and trying to focus despite his dizziness. Naturally, in such circumstances, emotions ruled the day, and the target of most of his hatred flashed into his mind. It had to be him somehow! His fault! _Everything_ was his fault!

"Damnit Potter," he groaned. "Damn you and-"

_FWOOOOOSH!_

"BUGGGERRRR!"

* * *

From her usual spying perch, Mrs. Tylor watched, in quite some disbelief, as a man in black was blasted right out of the neighborhood and sent plummeting into what appeared to be a garbage bin a few blocks over. After being hit by lightening, and knocked through a fence by an invisible force.

"That was... Odd," she said. She blinked, and thought about it.

Perhaps she'd merely imagined the whole thing... That, or she'd just seen the most unlucky man in the world, a glimpse at some of the suffering a wrathful God could dish out.

Either way, she didn't think she'd be telling anyone about it... Nor the strangest feeling of satisfaction she got watching the man suffer.

- - - - - -

"You don't have to do this," Harry said quietly, as he reclined in the warm water on top of Diane. He was sitting in her lap in the tub-After emptying his guts out into the toilet, Diane had drawn a bath and pulled him in with her.

"Nonsense, I cooked," she replied with a smile, leaning back and taking him with her. "Just relax..."

Harry sighed, head resting between her breasts. If Harry could have his way, he'd sleep with boobs as pillows every night he went to bed. There was really no going back for him. Every night forever after would be cold and lonely and unpleasant without boobs.

"So, Harry... What are your plans after school?" Diane asked softly, her fingers massaging his neck. Harry groaned happily at the sensation, and snuggled into her boobs more.

"Hmm... Don't know... Maybe become an Auror...?" He said.

"A what?" She asked.

"Er... Policeman," Harry corrected. Diane chuckled, and kissed the top of his head.

"Oh really?"

"Well, um, yeah... Protect people, I'm kind of good at it," Harry said. Diane nodded.

"Mm... Kind of lonely sometimes..."

"Well, um... If you were around, wouldn't be too lonely," Harry joked. Diane stared for a few moments, stroking his neck. Harry coughed, wondering if he'd said something wrong.

"Ah... Um..."

She finally smiled, almost sadly, and gave him another kiss on the top of his head. "Wouldn't be bad... You're already housebroken," she teased. Harry blushed and shrugged.

"I'm uh... Pretty handy, yeah," he said with a smile. Diane chuckled again, and sighed.

"Very..."

Harry frowned. "Something wrong?" He asked, looking up at her between her boobs. Diane sighed, and stroked his face.

"No, nothing..." Her hand on his neck squeezed a little tighter, making him moan.

"Ahhh... Um... Sure?" He asked.

Diane shrugged, and she gave him a sensual pout.

"Well... You haven't shagged me at all since you got here," she said in a sexy tone. Harry stared, and then she shrugged, rather sexily.

"Of course, you did throw up in the loo... Sex is probably the last thing on your mind," she sighed. She shifted her shoulders, rubbing her breasts against Harry's cheeks. "It's not much of a turn on..."

Harry reached up, and took hold of her breasts. He then slid up and kissed her. Diane moaned happily... Before breaking the kiss.

"Though... I insist you brush your teeth before we do anything," she said.

Harry blushed, and nodded.

"R-Right... Sorry about that..."

"Quite all right..."

As he rose to brush his teeth, Diane sighed softly. She didn't really think she could tell him... After all, what would he know about taking care of children? He'd just freak out.

No... Better to tell him later... Much later... At the right time.

Of course, she had no idea when that time would be, but she figured "right after throwing up in the bathroom and while the mother of his child is waiting for him in the bath" wasn't it.

* * *

"Hello Albus," Minerva greeted Dumbledore. "How are you this evening?"

"Just fine, thank you," Dumbledore said happily. Minerva sniffed, and raised an eyebrow. She knew that greasy scent...

"Was Severus in here recently?"

"Hm? Oh yes, how could you tell?" Dumbledore asked.

"We all have our talents, Albus," Minerva demurred. "What was he up to this late at night?"

"Oh, there were a few irregularities with the wards around Privet Drive, so I asked him to look into them," Dumbledore said.

McGonnagal was silent for exactly five seconds. "Really?"

"Hm? Oh yes, why do you ask?" Dumbledore asked.

"... I need to see Poppy, Albus, perhaps we can discuss the coming school year at another time," McGonnagal said.

"Are you sure?" Albus asked.

"Yes, they concern... Feminine problems," McGonnagal said with a perfectly straight face and her eyes locked on Dumbledore's forehead. Dumbledore slowly nodded.

"Ah, of course. See to them immediately, won't you?"

"I will, thank you," McGonnagal said, departing quickly. Dumbledore shrugged, and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. He decided not to inquire-After all, Minerva was the expert on feminine issues that he was unqualified to deal with.

Well, he presumed he was unqualified. After all, she was a woman, she should be the expert.

* * *

"Urgh..." Snape groaned, very, very slowly standing back up. He had little idea where he was, nor how he'd come to be lying in a crater. In a dark, dirty alley, one which he slowly walked out of. Well, more like staggered out of. Shuffled really.

No, none of that was important. Not really.

What was important was simple:

It was all Harry Potter's fault.

"... Huh..." He grunted. Nothing happened.

"... Potter's spirit should be ground into a fine powder and he should lick my boots every day," he tried.

Nothing. The closest thing to a happy sneer Snape could manage emerged.

Yes, he was outside the wards! Hahahaha! He looked around, his sneering becoming more confident.

Well, he could escape now and go report back to Dumbledore and... Wait... Was that Potter?

YES! It was! He was emerging from the house, smiling warmly at some older woman! Some _hot_ older woman.

_Stupid Potter, doing menial labor in the service of beautiful women,_ Snape sneered. _Well, at least he hasn't..._ The woman gave Harry a kiss. Snape's eyes bugged out.

_WHAT?! KISSING?! WHAT?! NO! HOW?!_

That didn't happen! No! Potters didn't have beautiful women! Well actually they did... THEY SHOULDN'T! Damn that James Potter!

Potter walked over the lawn of the house, whistling cheerfully as he prepared to cross the street. He was so happy... So _carefree_... It made Snape's blood boil.

Hell, part of the reason he supported Dumbledore was because of how effectively he made Potter suffer. You had to admire someone who caused that much pain and misery by "accident".

You had to wonder how much torment he'd visit on someone if he really worked at it.

"That Potter... I will...!" He seethed, preparing to draw his wand. Snape usually prided himself on his strict control over his emotions, but at this point, he didn't care. Before he could start on the syllable of a spell, however, a large, blunt object whacked against the back of his head and sent him face first into the pavement. Everything, appropriately enough, went black for him.

* * *

Harry blinked as he looked over at the street. Well... That wasn't something he'd ever expected to see.

Professor McGonnagal and Madam Pomphrey standing over an unconscious, burnt, blackened man who strongly resembled... Wait, was that...?

"Ah... Professor McGonnagal?" Harry asked.

"Mister Potter," McGonnagal said looking quite non-chalant. As though she hadn't just knocked Snape out with a Beater's bat. And technically, she hadn't.

That was Madam Pomphrey.

"Madam Pomphrey?"

The nurse coughed, and discretely hid the bat behind her back.

"Mister Potter," she replied.

There was awkward silence for a few moments. An awkward silence broken by the obvious question.

"Did you just knock Snape out with a bat to the back of his head?" He asked.

"No," McGonnagal said.

"Yes," Pomphrey said. They looked at eachother, then back at Harry.

"Yes."

"No."

They looked at eachother again, before their gazes went back to Harry.

"Yes, we did," McGonnagal said.

"Quite," Pomphrey said with a professionally neutral face. "We didn't think you'd mind."

McGonnagal's lips twitched. Harry looked back and forth... And he grinned broadly.

"Not at all," he said cheerfully. "Whatever it is you're doing that involves that, keep it up, please!"

"Thank you, Mister Potter," McGonnagal said. "See you in a few months."

"You too," Harry said, turning and whistling his way down the street. He was very sure that at that moment, he could've produced the most powerful Patronus ever.

The two witches glanced at eachother.

"We found him like this, mangled and injured due to the wards," McGonnagal said. "We found him after checking to make sure he was all right."

"Yes, quite," Pomphrey said with a slight smirk. "Exactly the thing I was going to suggest."

"Well then, we're in agreement," McGonnagal said with a smile. "We should get him to the medical wing, poor man probably has a concussion..." She trailed off and kicked the unconscious Potions Master in the balls.

"Minnie!" Pomphrey gasped. Minerva gave her a look.

"The wards are... _Very_ sadistic," she said. Pomphrey smiled and nodded.

"Oh yes... Quite sadistic... He was struck twice, as the wards are not bound by the Hippocratic Oath to do no harm," Pomphrey said. Minerva nodded, kicking Snape in the family jewels once more. The Potions Master unconsciously groaned.

"Well! Any other injuries that might need reporting?" McGonnagal asked. Pomphrey hummed, and shook her head.

"None come to mind..."

"Well then, let us get him back to Hogwarts, post-haste," McGonnagal said.

"Agreed," Pomphrey said, her catty smile mirroring that of the Transfiguration teacher's. They took a hold of Snape's shoulders, and Apparated with twin cracking sounds.

* * *

Harry was in sight of Number Four before he realized that he'd been, essentially, kicked out for the night. He thought about it for a little while, scanning the house, saw his window was lit up... And then snapped his fingers.

"Ah, right! Hermione said she'd be back," he said. He walked on, easily hopping the fence and coming in the front door. It was unlocked, which was in contrast to what the Dursleys said would be the case. Good ol' Hermione, she really was quite devious once she loosened up a bit.

_Oh yes... So very, wonderfully devious,_ he thought happily. He threw together some food from the leftovers, not caring that the Dursleys were trying to sleep, and ascended the stairs.

He reached the door to his room, and opened it up.

"Hermione, I'm... I'm..." He blinked. Several times.

Sitting on the bed wearing nothing more than a pair of spectacles sat Hermione. She blushed bright red, and held up a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ in front of her boobs.

"Ah... Hello Harry... Um... Took me a while... I trust you're doing with all of your chores?" She asked.

Harry nodded dumbly, not really hearing her.

"Good! Um, so am I... I uh... Well, since you liked the... The fishnet so much, I thought, maybe a little different roleplay would work too?" Hermione asked, looking uncertain. "The, the woman at the... Er... Shop said you'd like it..."

Harry Potter may have had sex with several attractive women all day. He may have been kind of tired. However, these were not important facts.

What was important was that A: Severus Snape, that smug greasy bastard, had been beat down by one of his teachers and he'd gotten to see the berk sprawled on the pavement, B: he was a pent-up, teenaged wizard with stamina that was highly unusual for his age, and C: His sexy best friend was unintentionally bringing one of his fantasies to life.

"Oh my!" Hermione cried, as Harry set the food down and pounced on her. She decided it really wasn't worth it to ask if he enjoyed her look-Being shagged until she was screaming bloody murder was more than enough of an answer for her.

She was very, _very_ glad she'd picked up the birth control potions when she did...

* * *

"Urggghhh..." Snape groaned, and very slowly opened his eyes. He immediately assessed his situation: He was back at Hogwarts, the hospital wing if he was not mistake about the smell and feel of the blankets. The lights were dim. His... Everything felt like hell, especially his balls and the back of his head.

The face of Madam Pomphrey swam into view. She was offering him that professionally detached smile of hers to him-One that never failed to annoy him.

"Are we awake?" She asked.

Snape bit back the Mel Brooks-inspired retort, and groaned in reply. "Yes..."

"Good..." She said. Dumbledore and McGonnagal's faces soon entered his field of vision too.

"Severus, thank goodness Poppy and Minerva were nearby," the ancient wizard spoke. "What happened?"

Severus groaned again. His mind was a jumbled mess of pain, but he did remember one thing... "Potter. I saw him... Outside...?" He strained, but even his formidable mind couldn't fight off the effects of a concussion. "Then everything went black."

"He has suffered quite a bit of injury, Albus," Pomphrey said. "Electrocution, blunt force trauma... He's lucky to be alive!"

"It's clear the defenses work, Albus," McGonnagal said. "I dare say you won't try something like that again."

"No... But I am surprised, Severus," Albus said. "You should not have triggered them unless you meant Harry harm."

Severus winced. "I... I did not... However..." It was hard to recall... Everything was a mess... "I... I may have..."

"Albus, really," McGonnagal snorted. "Sending Severus? Really? It's a wonder he's alive considering how the defenses are supposed to work."

Severus tried to snap out an insult, but Pomphrey forced a potion down his throat. "GLURK!"

"Now now, none of that Severus," Pomphry clucked. "Drink it down, you know how this works."

While Snape suffered swallowing down the vile healing potion, Dumbledore was arguing with McGonnagal nearby.

"Now Minerva, really, I would trust-"

"Severus with your life," McGonnagal repeated, and Snape saw Pomphrey repeat the same words silently. Miserable tarts, the both of them.

"However, his childish bullying of Mr. Potter is simply ridiculous," McGonnagal said. "To the point that the wards you set up against You-Know-Who did _this_ to him!"

"... Well... The important thing is that Severus is alive, and that Harry is safe," Dumbledore said, nodding a bit.

"Good... However, I must insist you memory charm Severus immediately," McGonnagal said. Snape's eyes widened.

"What?! No!"

"Minerva, the wards works-" Dumbledore tried, but McGonnagal cut him off.

"The Dark Lord could find out his location and use it as a means to set up a trap for Potter," McGonnagal said patiently. "Remember, we are trying to keep him _safe_, and preventing You-Know-Who from having any vital information is a good strategy."

Dumbledore was silent for a time, before nodding and looking over at Snape. "Severus... You understand? I will merely remove the last few hours from your mind, I assure you."

Severus stared for a bit, weighing the pros and cons. Despite everything, he didn't want Potter killed... But to suffer this much for his cause?

"... Very well," he said. Dumbledore obliviated him, and Snape blinked.

"... What happened?" He asked.

"I'm afraid you were injured on an errand for me, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Thankfully you will recover-However, due to security reasons I cannot tell you what occurred."

Severus slowly nodded, and winced. "Of course, Headmaster."

"Good. Get some rest," Dumbledore said with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. He was about to depart, when something caught his eyes.

"Poppy? What is a beater's bat doing in here?" The old wizard asked.

Pomphrey had her back turned to both Snape and Dumbledore as she answered. "It's a medical bat, actually," she said. "Reserved for use as an anesthetic against particularly unruly patients." She turned with a smile, her eyes looking over the tray of potions she had. "I rarely need to use it, but I take it out every now and then to make sure it's in working order, you understand."

"I didn't know you had one," Dumbledore admitted. Pomphrey shrugged demurely, fiddling with a stopper on the tray.

"You never asked, Albus."

"Ah, yes, of course," Dumbledore said, frowning slightly. "Minerva, about our conversation-?"

"I'm free all day tommorrow, Albus," McGonnagal said with a smile. "Have no fear."

Albus smiled back and nodded. "None at all, Minerva. Good evening to you all! Get better soon, Severus."

"Yes Headmaster," Snape said quietly.

Dumbledore turned and strode out of the hospital wing. McGonnagal's lips twitched ever so slightly, as though she was trying hard not to laugh. Snape sneered.

"What are you... Laughing about, Minerva?" He asked. McGonnagal smirked at him slightly.

"Merely appreciating something the Muggles call 'The Karma Fairy'," she said. "It seems to have visited you."

Snape would have retorted, had Pomphrey not shoved another potion down his throat. His eyelids grew heavy, and soon, he knew no more.

* * *

McGonnagal and Pomphrey waited until they were sure Snape was asleep, before the Transfiguration mistress raised an eyebrow at the nurse.

"Medical bat?"

Pomphrey shrugged. "It's an old, but accepted practice..." She smiled wryly. "And it's use technically does not violate the Hippocratic Oath."

"There are times when you scare me, Poppy," McGonnagal admitted.

"Oh come now Minnie, you wouldn't have had half as much fun if you didn't know me," Pomphrey teased. Minerva smirked.

"I've had _quite_ a bit of fun without you, you know..."

"I know... But not as much as you would have with me," the nurse said with a smile. McGonnagal stretched, and checked her watch.

"Hmm... I believe Sirius is still up," she said. "Perhaps we can pay him a visit..."

"Let slip the night's events?" Pomphrey asked with a smirk.

"Why Poppy, that would be just plain unprofessional!" McGonnagal scolded. "No, we will inform him of his former classmate's misfortune, and advise that he treat Severus with nothing but respect and good will."

Pomphrey shook her head. "And you say _I'm_ scary..."

McGonnagal just laughed.

* * *

_A bit short, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. I'll see if I can fit some more plot into the next chapter, what?_


	5. Chapter 5

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year_...

* * *

The morning sun rose, casting it's rays through the windows of Hogwarts. Life giving energy filled the infirmary and bathed everything within it in glorious warmth.

It was therefore very understandable why Severus Snape detested mornings. If even coffee could not make his mood improve, then sunlight, that natural pick me up, did nothing but make him surlier.

"Good morning Severus," Madam Pomphrey greeted him warmly, as she entered the infirmary carrying a tray of food. She set it on the small table next to Snape's bed and swiveled it around in front of him. "You should start eating, it will help speed your recovery."

Snape raised his eyebrows. There were slices of well cooked ham, pineapple and other fresh fruit, blueberry pancakes with honey, skim milk, and hardboiled eggs. He glanced up at her.

"It's..." He began, but Madam Pomphrey interjected.

"It's good for you, and you will eat it all," the nurse said flatly. Snape grumbled but went to it, trying not to show his enjoyment of the meal. Admittedly it was nice to have a change from the traditional British cooking Hogwarts supplied it's students with. One of the things he missed most about his summers off was access to Indian or Chinese food, pizza... Hell, fresh vegetables that hadn't been fried first was practically a luxury to him. Why the Wizarding world had to be so backwards about cuisine was beyond him-A good salad every now and again would do wonders for the pudgy little bastards.

Then again, he knew just why Dumbledore kept insisting on offering everyone he met a lemon drop: They were laced with a mild laxative. The man felt it was good and proper for everyone to be regular. Which they would be with better diets, but Snape had no ambition to change things for the better around here-Unless it involved improving his own situation.

Fat chance of that though...

Madam Pomphrey had exited the room while he was eating, and she returned just as he finished. She was carrying what appeared to be a stuffed hippogriff. She set it down on the side table, and Snape stared at it.

"And that is?" Snape asked with a sneer. Madam Pomphrey smiled.

"Oh, just a gift from a well wisher," she said. Snape reached for his wand, but Madam Pomphrey snatched it away. She scowled at him.

"No magic until you're healed," she said sternly. Snape grumbled, but he was wise enough to not insult the woman who mixed his medical potions and could do horrible things to him with a simple okay from the Headmaster.

He had issues but he wasn't stupid, thank you.

"Who is it from?" He asked flatly. Madam Pomphrey handed him a card. It appeared to be a Muggle Hallmark card, which bore a teddy bear on the front.

"_Rest, relax..._" The card advised. Snape slowly opened it.

_"And get well soon!"_ It concluded. Dread filled Snape as he recognized the signature.

"Poppy I _demand_ you dispose of that at once!" Snape snarled, throwing the card away. Pomphrey huffed, and picked the card back up.

"Now Severus, don't be so suspicious! He told me himself that he wouldn't do anything to you..."

"You'd take _his_ word?" Snape demanded incredulously. Pomphrey snorted, and set the card on the table.

"Yes, I would. Now stop acting so foolish and _get some rest_," she stated.

"Not until you remove those items now! You don't know Black! He'll-"

"Severus, I can simply strap you down," the school nurse stated. Snape narrowed his eyes.

"You wouldn't dare..."

Leather straps snapped to life and wrapped around him like a straitjacket. "HURK! POMPHREY!"

"Must I gag you as well, Severus?" Pomphrey asked flatly. Severus glared hatefully at her. He couldn't get into her mind as she was directly avoiding his eyes, so he couldn't tell if she was in on Black's obvious attempt to kill him.

But, he had forgotten why he'd stayed so far away from the hospital wing in the past-Madam Pomphrey did _not_ bluff. Grudgingly he nodded, and the straps receded. Pomphrey nodded in approval, and turned to do some work in her office. Snape was left with the hippogriff, and the card.

He looked at them, glaring into the beady eyes of the stuffed toy. The nerve of that Black, sending him something like _that_. Perhaps that was all he'd intended-To humiliate him. Yes, yes, he could see it now... The other Order members or faculty filtering in, seeing this toy on his table, and mocking him.

Yes, that would be befitting of Black's twisted, sadistic nature, the simplest tool for the simplest job...

Unless that's what he _wanted_ him to think. His eyes narrowed to thin slits. The toy sat there innocently, unmoving.

After all, Black would know Snape had figured out his tricks, would know how he would act and possibly even something of what he thought! He did not disregard the mutt's considerable cunning-He was almost Slytherin in his thinking.

Yes, make him think the object was merely to embarrass him while using it as a Trojan Horse-Perhaps to even kill him? No... Black would not be that sloppy...

Unless it was affected by a Confoundus Curse. Pomphrey might even now be mixing up a poison she would think was a simple healing potion, and feed it to him. Perhaps it had been in his breakfast! Yes, Black was cunning, truly cunning!

No, no... That was paranoia speaking... But paranoia was a constant when dealing with Black. And without his wand he could take no chances!

But vomiting now... No, he'd be humiliated! It would be known! The hippogriff... Yes, it was recording him now! It had to be!

* * *

"So... What exactly did you do to the hippogriff and the card?" Lupin was asking Sirius back at Grimmauld Manor. Sirius sipped his coffee and gave Lupin a grin.

"Nothing."

Lupin raised his eyebrow. Sirius shrugged.

"Okay, not exactly _nothing_, but it's nothing... Obvious."

Lupin sighed. "Padfoot..."

"Moony, remember what happened to him with the wards," Sirius said. "And what he was about to do to Harry."

Lupin was silent for a time, before he slowly nodded.

"Well... As long as no permanent harm is done..."

Sirius gave Lupin a look. He shrugged.

"Well, more than he's already gotten... We do have to think about Poppy."

"I think she can handle herself..."

* * *

"Leave the hippogriff alone, Severus!"

"You don't understand, he's going to get me! You don't know how he thinks! He's a madman! A mad-MMPH!"

Pomphrey sighed, and picked the toy up from the floor where Severus had dropped it. She set it back on the table, even as Snape writhed and gagged.

"It's just a _toy_, Severus," Pomphrey said flatly. "Now, I do not want to use the bindings again, but unless you behave yourself I will leave you like this for the rest of your stay!"

Snape glared back at her, but closed his eyes and nodded. Pomphrey released the bindings. She nodded in approval, before she turned and walked back to her office. Once inside, she used a spell that made the wall transparent but only on one side. She then sat down, and sipped at her tea with a smile as Severus returned to glaring at the hippogriff.

She wondered how long it would take him to try and strangle the toy again... And hoped Minerva arrived soon. This was almost as entertaining as Potter's "chores"...

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning with the pleasant feeling of Hermione sleeping on top of him. He stroked the top of her head as she snoozed, and smirked a little at how she drooled on his chest.

"Hermione... Hermione...?"

"Nnngh..." She kept her eyes tightly shut and snuggled against him.

"Hermione... Come on, get up, I need to make breakfast."

"Mmph..." She looked up at him, blinked a few times, and then yawned loudly, licking her lips. She smiled at him warmly, and tiredly.

"Morning Harry..."

"Good morning," he said, giving her a brief kiss on the mouth. Well, it was supposed to be brief but Hermione deepened it, and then her tongue was twisting around his, and suddenly he was pounding her into a gooey, screaming mess again.

Funny how that worked...

"Ohhh... Ohhh... G-God, Harry," she panted as she tried to catch her breath afterwards. "Ahhh..." She scowled and dug her teeth into his neck harder than she had last night.

"Oh...!" Harry groaned. Hermione released him.

"You know I'm still sore," she huffed. Harry scratched his head.

"Sorry... But you started it," he said. He grinned. "And you didn't seem to mind, did you?"

Hermione blushed deeply. "Well... No..." She sighed and laid back, stretching her arms over her head. She gave him a pout.

"You didn't have to indulge me..."

"I thought that's what a good lover's supposed to do?" Harry asked, stroking her hip. Hermione hummed.

"Well... You're also supposed to keep me in check... Maybe even..." She blushed. "Take charge..."

"I'd... I'd like that," Harry admitted. He smiled warmly, and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Ah? What's this for?" Hermione asked.

"Well... This whole summer's been brilliant so far, and you've made it even better," he said cheerfully. Hermione smiled warmly and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you Harry... I've gotta say, this has been a much better summer for me than the last one," Hermione said. She sighed happily. "I feel so relaxed... Sex changes your brain chemistry you know."

"Oh? For the better?" Harry asked, cuddling her.

"Mmhmm... Definitely," she said with another sigh. Harry had no disagreement there. He knew _he_ felt loads better after starting on sex.

He was going to have to test out his Patronus when he got back to Hogwarts. He bet it'd annihilate a whole army of Dementors now...

* * *

Dolores Umbridge was the Under-Secretary of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and she wore her office with obvious pride. She strode... Okay, waddled... Through the halls of the Ministry of Magic, a smile that made puppies and other innocent creatures whimper (she never could have any pets growing up) on her fat... Er... Round face, yes.

She approached the grand office of the Minister, looking quite pleased. The Minister's secretary was boredly dictating notes to her quill, and with a cringe... Er... glance, she nodded to Madam Umbridge and tapped her wand on her desk.

"Minister, Madam Umbridge to see you," she said.

_"Send her right in!"_ Fudge's voice called through the magical connection. Umbridge smiled at the secretary, who carefully averted her eyes. Umbridge thought it respectful-Didn't those Asians defer in the same way to their betters? Yes, she was a good secretary, she'd have to mention her to Fudge. So few people showed her the proper respect nowadays!

"_Hem-hem,_ Minister," Umbridge greeted as she walked through the doors. Fudge nodded to her, his brow creased in concentration at the puzzle on his desk before him.

"Dolores, good to see you," he said, distracted. "Sorry, this has been taking up all my time this afternoon."

"Oh?" Umbridge looked it over. It did look like quite the conundrum... "Isn't that last piece supposed to go there?"

"Oh, but there's a second piece, too!" Fudge whined, holding up said piece. "Is it the fur of the hippogriff or the back? I can't tell!"

"... It looks upside-down, Minister," Umbridge said finally. "I am reasonably sure Hippogriffs have their wings on their backs, not on their stomachs."

"How sure? Damnit Dolores, this has consumed all my time today and I can't waste any more! STOMACH or BACK?" Fudge demanded.

Umbridge considered for a moment whether or not the good Minister had hit his head this morning. Or if he'd snuck something into his tea again, But her job might be on the line with her answer, so she delivered it post-haste.

"Back! Definitely back!" Umbridge squeaked. Fudge nodded, and pressed the last piece down. The magical puzzle Hippogriff stared back at him with a hawk's glare, before trotting off-puzzle.

"Hmph," Fudge grunted. "Well, now that that's done, what do you need?"

"It concerns Potter," Umbridge said. Fudge grumbled.

"Potter? Oooh... Potter, Potter, always Potter... What has he done now?"

"Well, our propaganda plan is working perfectly," Umbridge said with a smirk. "We are turning the public against him and Dumbledore according to the last polls!"

"Excellent," Fudge said cheerfully. "So why bring him up?"

"Because I have another plan that goes one step further," Umbridge said.

"How?" Fudge asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Simple... Dragons."

"Dragons?" Fudge asked. Umbridge nodded.

"Dragons. We use them to kill him."

"Kill him?" Fudge cried. "They'll burn him to a crisp! He's just a boy! More importantly, we'll be found out for sure!"

"Oh not at all, Minister," Umbridge demurred. "It's the perfect plan!

He frowned. "Well, it's not very... What's the word... Subtle?"

"Well no, but who would suspect us of killing Harry Potter with a dragon? Only a complete and total fool would try to kill him with a dragon!" Umbridge said.

Fudge gave her a look. Umbridge coughed.

"Ah... But you, Minister, would _not_ be a fool! No! You would be so foolish you're a _genius!_"

"So... It's like it... Goes all the way back around from bad to good?" Fudge reasoned. Umbridge nodded.

"Of course, Minister!"

"... Naaah," Fudge said. "I mean, we have to get a dragon, and then pay off everyone who sees it... And then Potter becomes a martyr, how could you forget that?"

Umbridge would have pointed out that Fudge hadn't pointed that fact out until now, but she held her tongue. She was no fool, oh no, not in the slightest.

"Well... Perhaps," Umbridge said. "We could always twist it into scandal! I-I can see it now! 'Harry Potter Dies While Trying to Relive Glory of Triwizard Tournament!'"

"Hmmm... No, no, I still don't like it," Fudge said. "Also, we'd have to explain how a dragon got loose in Surrey."

"Perhaps it escaped from a circus?" Umbridge tried. At Fudge's look, she sighed. "Very well, Minister... I'm sorry."

"Oh no, no! Discrediting Potter is quite good! We can work with that. You see, that's how you make a life in government, you find the rubies in the mounds of dung. Discrediting him, yes, but killing him? No..." Fudge thought about it. "Well... What do we know about Harry Potter?"

"He's a thorn in your-"

"No, no, no! Something that would be useful!" Fudge grumbled. Dolores hummed, her cunning, devious mind thinking things through. Potter being a martyr would only last so long-In the long run, it was better to eliminate a potential rival for power. That meant death. The Minister was too soft-hearted for his own good, it really was for the best. But how...? Why yes, of course! That would do it!

"He knows the Patronus Charm!" Umbridge lied with a gleeful smile.

"Wait, really? He does?" Fudge asked. Umbridge nodded.

"You mean, he can actually form one?"

"Oh yes, a corporeal one. He's very powerful for his age, you know," Umbridge further lied.

"How do you know?" Fudge asked.

"Oh, I have my sources at the school," she said modestly. "How do you think those one hundred Dementors we sent after Black were driven off?"

"You mean, the Dementors say he did it?" Fudge asked.

"Why of course! But it's been confirmed by other sources, too," Umbridge said. "It's on good authority Minister, you have my word."

"So... We... Sic a Lethifold on him!" Fudge said triumphantly. "He uses the Patronus Charm, and thus... AHA! He breaks the Underaged Limitation on Magic! Brilliant Dolores!"

"Ah... We're fresh out of Lethifolds, Minister," Umbridge said. Fudge scowled.

"Fresh out? Well order some more!"

"I'm afraid the... Lethifold farm has been consumed by the Lethifolds... Not very smart, really. Hunting them is better than raising them," Umbridge quickly lied.

"Ohhh... Well why did you bring up the Patronus Charm? Only Dementors and Lethifolds are driven off by... Oh. _Ohhh_, you mean, use Dementors?" Fudge asked.

Umbridge nodded, smiling happily. At last, he'd gotten it!

"Brilliant, Dolores! This will work perfectly, yes!"

"Oh, it was nothing Minister," Umbridge said modestly. "It will be quite the victory, I assure you."

"Excellent! Now... Get me another puzzle! You're going to help me make it! There are big things in your future, Dolores, very big things!"

"Oh, I know Minister," Umbridge said with a smile.

* * *

Fleur Delacour had met many men, and been with a number of them. She wasn't a slut, far from it, but the Veela always valued the merits of the flesh and Fleur was no different. Sometimes women too.

What she was seeing, however, and had been seeing for the last few hours had left her pretty mouth hanging wide open. Tonks grinned, and flicked more popcorn into her mouth.

"So... Still think he's a 'leetle boy'?" She asked, in a bad French accent. Fleur blushed prettily.

"Non, non... Not in the slighest," she said with a grin. She took some more popcorn and chewed it, licking her red lips with a hum. "Hmm... So, when do we go in?"

"Well, I hate to interrupt coitus, surely you understand," Tonks said. She blinked and cocked her head. "Oh wow... You know, you wouldn't think that she was that flexible."

"Non..." Fleur said. "I would not mind her joining us..."

"Eh? Wait, foursome?" Tonks asked. Fleur grinned naughtily.

"Would zat be too much for you, Auror Tonks?" She asked, another kernel of popcorn disappearing between her lips. Tonks huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hardly..."

"And it's not like he cannot 'andle it, correct?" Fleur said. Tonks smirked.

"Well, we could certainly find out," she said. Fleur chuckled.

"Oui..."

It was another hour before Harry emerged from the house. Hermione was left as a happy-looking mess on the bed, not even bothering to cover up with a wide-open window. Not that Tonks was complaining, it was bloody hot.

"Mmm... What do you think she'll taste like?" She asked. She blinks, staring at the empty spot where Fleur was previously inhabiting.

"... Fleur...?" She looked at the street-Harry was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes narrowed and her hair flared bright red.

"Bitch!"

* * *

Harry had gone out to get some fresh air, and to grab some food from the local store. He had heard this drink called "Gatorade" was good for very physically active people, and he was willing to give it a shot. After all, Dudley never tried it, so that didn't immediately remove it from consideration, right?

He was so happy, he was actually whistling as he walked. He _never_ did that! It brought a silly grin to his face.

_Wait, I know how to whistle? When did I learn that?_ He asked himself. He scratched his head, trying to recall where he'd learned...

_"No! No, don't kill Harry! Kill me instead, please!"_

_"Step aside, stupid girl, step aside..."_

Maybe Ron had taught him? Could Ron whistle? Harry didn't know. He also noted it was getting kind of cold... Actually, really cold...

He looked up the alley and stared in disbelief. Ten feet tall, clothed in black robes, only a dark hole to signify anything remotely like a face...

_Dementors...!_ Harry shivered, feeling his previous happiness slip away against the sheer power of the malevolent wraiths. He faltered, taking steps back as the Dementors glided towards him.

_No... Shit... Here? Now? How?_

As they closed in and the icy grip of the Dementor's influence began to drain the warmth and life from him, Harry put aside such questions. Hands shaking, he drew his wand and pointed it at them.

_Come on, focus... Focus... Happy thought...!_

Everything was being chased by his mind though! The overwhelming despair, the heartache, the death of his mother...

"Harry!"

He turned at the call, and saw, impossibly, that Fleur Delacour was running up behind him. Fleur Delacour... He'd saved her sister... Ron had had a huge crush on her... She'd kissed him on the cheek, just like Hermione...

_Ron! Hermione!_

"Fight it Harry!" Fleur called. Fireballs appeared in her hands as her features become more bestial, like those full-blooded Veela at the Quidditch World Cup... Where he and Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, everyone had gone...!

_Ron! Hermione!_

He turned, these two thoughts of his friends giving him the means to make further connections, fighting through the Dementor's cold. He pulled in every single happy memory he could link through both of them... And in the case of Hermione and the things they'd done, he was able to pull up a _lot_ of happy memories.

_"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ He roared, and the entire alleyway was filled with light.

* * *

Tonks had taken off after Fleur, but the part-Veela seemed to be a fair bit faster on foot. No matter-The Auror knew this area very well, and she was able to cut through a few yards to catch up. This is how she was able to feel the Dementor's cold, which brought her running into the alleyway, wand drawn, the Patronus charm on her lips.

Just in time to be blown off her feet as someone else's Patronus exploded into being.

"Oof!" She fell flat on her arse, but recovered quickly enough to sit up. She squinted against the incredibly bright light, managing to make out two dark sihoulettes against the glow. One was obviously Harry-He was at the center of the spell. The other was Fleur, struggling to stay on her feet as the wind blew fiercely from Harry's spell. Ground zero.

Over the howling wind, she could hear unearthly screams. Twisted and grating, like Hippogriffs being tossed into a gigantic meat grinder mixed with that one time Kingsley sang at Kareoke Night. The light slowly died down, as did the wind, and Tonks took the opportunity to stand up.

It was probably something she should have avoided, because the sight that greeted her after the spots vanished from her vision sent her falling on her ass again.

"Wh-Wh-What the bloody hell?" She cried.

Harry looked pretty confused himself, as he looked over the two piles of... Ash and crystal bones?

"Um... Er... Hi," he said, recognizing Tonks as an Auror (if nothing else). "Um... This looks... You see, I had to. They were Dementors, they were trying to kill me and..."

"What the bloody hell?" Tonks said. She'd said it once but it seemed to bare repeating. She got back up and ran over to the two piles of former Dementor... Which, strangely enough, smelled like burnt dog. She knelt down and poked one of the piles with her wand.

"ACK!" Tonks said, as a crystalline skull tumbled out of the pile. She waved her wand frantically. "Ew! Bloody fucking hell!" She blinked a few times, before she looked back at Harry. "You... You _destroyed_ them!"

"Ah... Yeah, I... I did... Um..." Harry scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. "Um... That bad?"

Tonks goggled at him in disbelief. Harry fidgeted.

"I-I mean... They were coming for me... And they are Dementors... Um... I know they work for the Ministry and all, so... Is there a fine or something for this-Oof!"

Harry would have been knocked forward by a sudden impact from behind, if a pair of strong, pale arms had not suddenly wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. He coughed, and looked up over his shoulder.

"Uh, Fluer? You all right?"

Tonks looked over at Fleur. The beautiful part-Veela was breathing hard, her pale cheeks bright red, her blue eyes locked on Harry with incredible intensity. The fireballs in her hands had dissipated, thankfully, otherwise Harry would have been set on fire.

"Harry..." She whispered huskily. "You destroyed two Dementors..."

"Uh... Um... Y-Yeah..." Harry said. "Is that good?"

Fleur responded by tearing her clothes off with aroused and bestial strength. Harry's clothes soon hit the ground too, as did Harry with Fleur on top trying desperately to shove her tongue down his throat. Tonks' jaw dropped, and drool began to drip from the corner of her mouth. What could she say, it was insanely hot.

Any disappointment she might have felt at being left out, however, vanished when the wild-eyed Fleur grabbed her by her robes and yanked her into a deep kiss as well.

"Mmph! H-Hey, wait a min-!"

"Either get in on zis, or _leave_," Fleur snarled.

Tonks made her choice.

* * *

Dudley Durlsey had been exposed to a number of things in his life. The weirdest all courtesy of his freak cousin. Those creepy weird Weasley Twins were the worst, turning his tongue into a gigantic monster! He hadn't been able to breath, and tasting _everything_ had been a nightmare.

He was really hoping this was also a nightmare. Upon seeing Harry heading out for something, he'd decided to follow. A little Harry Hunting had cheered him up in the past, and it wasn't like the freak could use any magic now, right? The alley Harry was passing through would offer plenty of privacy.

Then... Intense cold, like the feeling of never being happy again. Dudley didn't know what it was, all he'd known was that Harry, far ahead of him, had been affected too. But, clearly not enough that he couldn't do... Whatever the hell he'd done. It was rather like setting off a bomb made of light that had vaguely resembled a gigantic stag. He'd heard screaming, unearthly wailing like dogs did whenever his Aunt Marge demonstrated her singing. He'd therefore come to the conclusion that this involved horrific agony-He knew he'd experienced that before.

When the light faded, two hot birds were in the alley where none had been before. And two smoking piles of something. Dudley didn't know what to make of it-Two hot girls and two piles of steaming crap? What the hell? Magic made no sense.

Though... Admittedly... He couldn't argue with the results, as apparently Harry had cast a bit of hocus pocus that had created two hot birds that were perfectly happy to jump and shag him silly... And eachother.

Viewing this kind of thing had been enough for Dudley's already overtaxed brain ("Yes lungs, keep breathing, just like that!"), and he'd promptly passed out.

Unfortunately for him he did this in front of a street sweeper, which had scooped him up and gone on it's way. He would wake up in a zoo sometime later with no memory of how he'd gotten there and his only clue a mysterious tattoo on the back of his arse... But that's another story.

* * *

As stated before, Dumbledore had an impressive array of magical sensors and devices all designed for the purpose of monitoring the magical energies currently active in and around Privet Drive. Their operation was so complex that even Dumbledore had little idea about all the various things they actually picked up. He was a great wizard but even he hadn't gone through all his various acquisitions over the years.

Besides, about half this stuff came without a manual. He really needed to stop these yard sale crawls of his, they never ended well.

Currently, all his devices were going completely insane as a result of something huge. One spun like a top and whistled like a tea kettle. Another seemed to be jogging in place. Still another blinked it's lights on and off repeatedly, and then stopped. Curious, Dumbledore bent over and looked intently at the device.

_Splurt_

McGonnagal, hearing the alarms and screams and other various odd noises all coming from Dumbledore's office, raced into the Headmaster's office with her wand drawn.

"Albus? Albus, what the bloody hell is going on?" She demanded.

Dumbledore slowly stood up, and licked the white, creamy substance covering his face. "Hmmm... Raspberry." He made a face. He _hated_ raspberry.

"Albus!"

"Hm? Oh! Hello Minerva," Dumbledore said cheerfully, turning to look at her. Minerva's face paled a bit at the sight. Dumbledore kept up his smile. Certainly, he did not care for raspberry, but it was an unusual occurrence and really, it wasn't particularly bad.

"I... What is going on?" Minerva asked.

"Well, you see, one of my instruments just up and randomly shot a great amount of raspberry-flavored cream into my face," Dumbledore said.

"... I..." Minerva shook her head. "Is it an instrument monitoring Privet Drive?"

"Yes, it is... I would surmise an event of immense magical power occurred... Probably Harry," he said, as he managed to look at another instrument and get it's readings. Harry's magic always did have a particular signature to it. One of barely repressed, immense power. Always a bit of a concern, but surely something that could be mastered by understanding and standard education that all students had gone through!

After all, it had done wonders for him! And Tom Riddle!

Oh, wait. No, it hadn't. Oh dear.

"Perhaps I should investigate-" Dumbledore began.

"Oh no! No! Albus, you should consult with the Ministry, quickly! If Potter has been using magic, they'll try to get him expelled, you _know_ that!" Minerva said. Dumbledore nodded.

"You are very right, Minerva. Yes, please see to it immediately. I will owl the Ministry, try to find out the particulars of the event." He turned back to the device that had assailed him with raspberry cream.

"Yes, good... I'll be going then," Minerva said. "Would you care to wipe that off, Albus?"

"Hm? Well, certainly... Though having cream on my face is hardly the worst thing to happen to me," Dumbledore calmly replied. Minerva nodded... Very slowly.

"Of course..." She vanished through the Floo of the fireplace, while Dumbledore stared intently at the device. He then chuckled.

"There is only one man who would _dare_ to give me the raspberry," the ancient wizard laughed. "Lone-!"

_Splurt!_

Dumbledore blinked, and coughed. He supposed it wasn't the time to quote Mel Brooks films... Though he had seldom found a time when one couldn't.

* * *

Cool blue eyes roamed over the selection this shop presented.

She had never liked Muggles much. They spread like a plague, had murdered their own for pointing out the most basic things about astrology, tortured and killed countless innocents all in the name of some ultimate being that, ironically, was never able to protect them from the payback magical folk always got in the end.

And they were dirty. Wizarding folk had vanishing and cleaning charms, had them for millenia. And those charms worked better than anything non-magicals could cook up. It was one of the reasons witches and wizards lived for such a long time, and the reason muggles and muggleborns had always been associated with the word dirty.

_No, I never had any love for muggles, but…_

Narcissa Malfoy hummed quitely as her fingers went over the item she had been checking out. Hmm, black lace…

_...in some cases wizarding culture is simply lacking._

She liked looking good, she spent a lot of her husband's hardly-earned money that way. Wearing things that hinted, but didn't reveal, that made heads turn… yes, she really loved that. Not that it helped.

She sighed. It had been too long…

"..otter boy!" She blinked at the quiet squeal coming from a couple of chatting muggle women a few rows down. Her eyes widened. Could it really be? Dare she hope? Pretending to browse, she steadily made her way in their direction.

"..not even fifteen yet, but..!" "..always had a reputation , but this is beyond ...!" "..last time I counted there were at least 12 of us around, daughters not included!"

She had finally made her way close enough to hear them more clearly. In between the giggles and squeals, that is. Using very basic legilimency, she was able to catch the emotions and stray thoughts the women were all but radiating and gasped. _It's really happening!_ She continued to pretend caring about the selection before her while increasing the focus and power of her legilimens spell, until she could finally see memories, rather than just emotions.

Reading other people's thoughts was, sometimes, a bit like experiencing it yourself. Her body froze, and she was acutely aware of the fact that her face must have been glowing, even as she continued to siphon the memories of the housewives that apparently lived in young Mr. Potter's neighborhood.

When she caught herself, she quickly retreated from the minds of the muggles. Dismissing the chance of her blush receding any time soon, she headed out the shop, ignoring the odd looks she got, before covertly weaving a muggle-notice-me-not charm around her and disappearing with a crack.

* * *

Narcissa was deep in thought as she made her way through Malfoy Manor towards the dining area, where the elf said her son was. Said elf had also confirmed that Lucius was away on an 'errand', which was always a plus, especially right now, but she'd still have to deal with her son before she could do anything.

Many people knew that James Potter was a very popular person. Few, however, knew the exact details as to how that came to be - although one could guess, judging by the types of groups that were enamored with him. In essence, once his balls finished dropping, the girls were floored. To make it short, by the end of his time in Hogwarts, James "The Slot-machine" Potter had his own following, inside Hogwarts, as well as Hogsmeade and a few students' mothers, complete with small shrines hidden throughout the castle in some of the girls' dormitories.

Then came September the 23rd. It was a day of mourning and tragedy, a sad day for many females in Hogwarts, as well as the ones who had taken to using the secret passages to enter the school whenever they wanted, when James decided to settle down and go after Lily Evans exclusively. She frowned. _Lucky bitch_.

Still, most respected James' decision, if only to have a chance should anything ever happen to that relationship. Of course, 'shortly' after that a baby boy arrived. There was a rumor going around that Harry was the result of Lily trying to prove that muggle condoms would work just as well as magical protection. At any rate, it was decided to back off and leave the family alone.

Narcissa, however, made one more decision in regards to the Potter Family. She had always wanted a daughter, and she figured her offspring deserved only the best. That, naturally, included getting pottered after being old enough. Thus, she made plans and decided to always keep an eye on little Harry, to see how much of his father he inherited.

Then the Dark Lord attacked the Potters. Had he succeeded not only in killing James, but wiping out any chance of ever recreating the "Lord Of Nookie" by killing the son, his fate..

Well, add dozens of naturally scheming, unsatisfied, women, with absolutely nothing worthwhile to do all day, each having inherited power, as well as knowledge about old magics and rituals, then go ahead and embitter them by removing any chance of them ever being satisfied again..

Yes. His fate would have caught up to him in less than a week, and it would have been far worse than death. Truthfully, Voldemort was lucky to be killed at that point.

Of course, she never did get a daughter. In retrospect, it is a miracle Lucius managed to stay at it long enough to produce Draco, and even that was lucky shot. Now she had all these plans, and no one to use them for. Or did she? Waste not, want not, she had always been told. And boy, _did she want_.

She shook her head to clear it as she reached the dining area. Her eyes took in the sight before her. Draco was sitting at the table, apparently deep in concentration, hunched over a piece of parchment. And nibbling on his quill – the part used for writing. And wasn't that one of his self-inking ones? She cringed and once again cursed the ancestry of the Blacks for not being dominant. It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't constantly reminded of that fact.

She cleared her throat.

He suddenly looked up, smiling widely, showing off ink-stained teeth. "Mother!"

"Draco, dear." She forced a smile with practiced ease. Her eyes flickered to the parchment. "And what are you doing?"

"Oh well, the Gryffindor keeper left last year, so they need a replacement. Probably Weasley.."

She nodded encouragingly, happy that her son was planning ahead properly.

"..so I decided to write him a song I can sing for him during the Quidditch matches!"

_Or not. Urk._ Apparently he inherited more from his father than she thought. Well, since it appeared that her son would not be passing on her family's legacy, it made her decision so much easier.

"I am glad you start living up to your Slytherin heritage more, Draco.", she told him warmly, pinching his cheek. No harm encouraging his secret desires, even if he didn't realize them himself yet. Besides, then he could hardly start blaming her for getting together with a boy younger than him, could he? "But I am afraid you will have to continue that in your room. Something important will happen soon, and your father will need to be alone for it to work out right."

"But I don't wanna!"

She internally sighed at the whiny tone and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Draco! Are you going to be a bad little dragon?" The mixture of the stern sounding, slowly spoken words and her unyielding stare always got him.

"..No.", he mumbled sullenly, looking at the floor

"So you are going to be what?"

"A good little dragon." The reply was once again more directed at the floor than her, but she chose to let it slide. There were more important things to do. Like being buggered by Potter. She had always wanted to try that. She frowned slightly when her nipples hardened against her arms, glad she chose that particular pose.

"And what do good little dragons do?"

"They do what their mother tells them to do.."

"And what do good little dragons get for being good little dragons?"

Suddenly her son was all smiles, showing off his Mundungus Fletcher themed dental dye job. "Good little dragons get ice cream and can stay up 15 minutes longer for being so good!"

"That's right, Draco." She smiled gently at him. "But that offer expires soon, so…" She trailed off as the rest would have gone unheard, her son having just taken long enough to collect his writing utensils and the love poem he was working on before bolting to his room.

* * *

Her eyes roamed over Lucius' private study, checking if everything was as it should be.

Narcissa did not like her husband very much. He was cold. She wouldn't have minded, usually, except that he was her husband. Saying that he left her unsatisfied might give people the idea that he was even trying.

He was rather annoying and a braggart. He was so obvious in his dealing that it made her cringe. Truthfully, if magical Britain wasn't hopelessly corrupt, he would have been long dead. And throwing his support at that bumbling fool of a minister that obviously was going to come back to haunt them soon enough. Them, not him. That was something she wouldn't accept.

And while she had hoped that she might eventually have a daughter, she loved her son. Her husband had succeeded in trying to make his offspring as moronic as himself, and now, he was planning to enter her baby into the ranks of that insane subhuman bastard.

Lucius might enjoy groveling at someone's feet, happy to have received enough of his master's attention to get blasted by the standard absentminded 'How are you today, Lucius?'-Cruciatus, but that fate would be his alone. She would not let that happen to her child.

Really, his attempts to draw Draco into this were the last straw. Or nail, as it were. The news about Potter merely sped up the process.

* * *

People were creatures of habit, Narcissa knew. Thus people's habits spoke volumes about their personalities.

The ability to walk without trouble while reading a book, for instance, did not necessarily imply intelligence, but at least a certain desire for books.

Someone who can eat while walking might be a very busy person, not the type to sit down and enjoy a meal.

Now what did it say about her husband when he just walked past her in the hall without noticing her? After she spent an inordinate amount of time making her look good and reapplying her make-up?

Well, he was obviously distracted, seeing as he was looking into his, admittedly quite nice, gold framed pocket mirror, carefully looking at the area around his eyes. She knew from experience, and being asked between three to seven times a day, that he was checking if his eyebrows were truly even.

Everyone had habits- Lucius' ones, like he himself, were simply more obnoxious and easier to exploit.

Hearing a door closing down the hall she knew her husband first decided to stop in his study, as was usual.

Next, he would be taking a few swigs from the bottle on his desk, containing whatever spirits he might fancy that week. And then he would start going through any correspondence that might have arrived, filing it away if it was useful.

She smiled. She had told him, times and times again, that habits can be weaknesses, and one should be aware of their own, but he had never taken her seriously. It was one of the fundamental truths that most people don't really get. Like how the nature of conflict is almost never between equals, but between a hunter, and prey.

In this house, there was only one hunter. Lucius thinking it was him wasn't just extremely funny, but an error he would never be able to correct, either. Her inner animal purred in agreement.

She had waited five minutes before entering the study and coming across the unmoving body of her husband slumped over a folder on his desk. The bottle he had been drinking from had fallen down, spilling some of its contents on the floor. In Lucius' hands there was still, ironically, his hand mirror, as well as the letter attached to aforementioned bottle

The letter itself was from her, although she signed it off with Nott's name. Supposedly the bottle was a gift of appreciation, telling Lucius that he would 'remember the taste till his dying day for sure', and hinting at a minor case of bribing Nott had succeeded in doing in the Ministry.

Lucius being himself decided to file it away in his blackmail folder on Nott. He kept those things on just about everyone. It was one of his few good traits.

What would happen now was simple.

Usually, the information Lucius had was hidden well and couldn't physically be found unless you knew where to look. There were quite a few of those caches hidden around the manor, but this one was the most important one. Holding detailed information on everything the Wizengamot and the Ministry employes did wrong (they were quite numerous, and quite big), if this ever made it to the press or into the hands of someone who wasn't corrupt, it would easily topple the government.

He even kept logs of his own dealings, so he could make sure that no one would threaten him, lest they go down with him.

Sadly for all these people, however, Narcissa had really no use for them. The Malfoy fortune was too vast for her, or her son, to stay out of Voldemort's little games. If Lucius disappeared, they would be bearing the pressure, and being branded so they would be forced to comply.

Really, with the way things were the only way to get a bit of breathing room was to crush Fudge, his administration, and make sure the death eaters were kicked out of positions of power and on the run, if not outright killed.

That way Voldemort would be too busy to really bother anyone.

Luckily, she wouldn't be caught having played a part in this. The aurors would arrive, find the folder, notice the open cache still holding blackmail material on everyone BUT the aurors she was going to call, and things would snowball from there.

With the guilt all but admitted in the letter, they would start with Nott. As it is easily possible to use memory charms to subvert the effects of veritaserum if you had enough time they would just assume he did precisely that.

With someone of Nott's position readily available to confirm at least parts of the information found in this room, nearly all of her enemies would fall as one. And Voldemort would believe it was Nott's fault, so his family would bear any anger that he might be feeling. It was beautiful for something she mostly made up as she went along.

Her late husband had, on her urging, and believing it to be his own idea, included Harry Potter in his will. After all, someone who had suffered under the Imperius for a decade would surely wish to make sure his savior is taken care off.

Apart from inheriting a bit of money, he would also gain partnership in several businesses the Malfoy family ran. Thus, a connection between the two families would be created. And she would meet him at the will reading, a wife shaken by loss, in need of comforting. _Oh yes._

But for that, all these people would have to disappear. _Oh well, who cares?_

She was just about to leave the room when she caught sight of one specific folder. She nearly laughed out loud as a plan formed in her mind. _All except you. For you I have uses_. She took it carefully, only half surprised by its weight.

She smirked at the giant folder she was holding, cataloging Severus Snape's crimes and misdeeds. Last time she counted them was a bit over a year ago, meaning it was well before the sniveling man's master's rebirth.

It contained everything he did that Lucius was privy to, starting from the atrocities he committed during the summer before his final year in order to start gaining the self-proclaimed Dark Lord's favor, as well as some of his 'teaching' habits.

Such as watching the male, teenage, quidditch players shower after the games and practices (maybe she shouldn't have ignored his pathetic ranting after all? He did say Potter was just like his father, no?), and his repeated use of magics rightfully classified as mental attacks on his underage charges.

Of course, with how blatantly corrupt this world was, in general, Legilimens on minors is a serious offense. Wouldn't want your own misdeeds known by everyone because your children don't know how to defend themselves, right?

If she had to guess, you could, just using the information Lucius gathered, get Snape sentenced to being a dementor's chew toy 13 or 14 times, at least 10 if you wanted to play it very safe.

Or rather, you could blackmail him at least 9 times into doing the most humiliating, embarrassing and painful things you could thing of for you own amusement, before having him sentenced to death.

Now, the real question was.. if someone were to tell Lily's son who sent Voldemort after his parents, and what said someone wanted in return.. what would the ability to force Snape to run around in a Sailor Senshi costume while teaching for a couple of months, all the while making him try to seduce Hagrid and Filch, possibly simultaneously, before having him killed be worth to Harry?

_Narcissa want. Narcissa get_.

She smiled as she hid the blackmail material in her moleskin pouch. Now, it was time to catch herself a little boy toy. The cougar had always enjoyed a good hunt, after all.

With just a little effort, she looked the part of the distraught, helpless trophy wife, tears running down the panicked face. Absentmindedly checking her appearance in her new hand mirror she nodded happily to herself when she noticed that her tears didn't mess up her make-up. She hated not looking her best, after all.

Now, it was time to alert the Auror Corps to this horrible crime, wasn't it? Better make sure Bones herself knew about this. Wouldn't want to have everything been for naught.

_And he will be mine._

_

* * *

_

_Last part written by Parac, who is quite the talented writer. But I'm not jealous, no, not in the slightest!_

*Sharpens a knife*

_Anyway, I apologize for the delay. I just got back from a two week archaeology field school in Belize so I've been a bit overwhelmed. Still, hope you enjoy this chapter. There's more on the way, trust me._


	6. Chapter 6

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year_...

* * *

Hermione Granger was a creature of habits and schedules. Usually it only took a short amount of time for her to adopt a new habit that she deemed helpful to her, but at the same time being so obsessive and orderly it was difficult to see which habits would be most beneficial to her.

Being shagged three ways from Sunday by Harry on a daily basis was most definitely a beneficial habit to take up, as was waking up with a cat-like stretch. She purred happily, and waited for Harry's hands to begin their petting.

Nothing happened. Hermione opened one eye, and glanced to her side. No Harry.

She blinked. "Harry?"

She then scowled. Had he snuck off sometime during the night? What, was she not enough for him?

... Well, okay, she _wasn't_ (she admitted to herself with a blush), but really! He could have at least told her! Or left a note!

A note she could not find, ergo, it was most likely it didn't exist. So she had a missing Harry to look for, without access to magic.

Pulling on one of Harry's shirts and her panties, she took one of her Muggle-repelling Post It notes and exited the door. Vernon Dursley was there, looking surprised.

"Ah..."

"Hello," Hermione said smoothly. She moved to raise the Post It, but Vernon held up his hands.

"Wait! Don't do... Anything... Whatever it is..." He frowned. He noted Hermione's state of dress. He noted the state of the room. He connected it all to Harry's unusual behavior yesterday, and the wheels very, very slowly turned in his head to piece it all together.

"You're shagging the boy!" Vernon blurted out. Hermione's gaze narrowed, becoming as cold as an icy blizzard. Vernon stuttered, but managed to regain his composure as he shook his finger at Hermione.

"N-Now see here, you-you freakish _tart!_ I'll have none of that under MY roof!"

"The way your son and wife look, I am not surprised," Hermione said flatly. Vernon's face purpled in rage.

"Why you-!"

Hermione stuck the Post It in his face, and Vernon abruptly looked confused.

"Huh? What... What was I doing...?"

Normally, Hermione would let the Muggle Repelling Charm just take it's course and make Vernon think he'd forgotten his keys or needed to get to work or something. But in her anger at his insults, she lost her temper and blurted out:

"You were off to get buggered you fat oaf!"

Vernon blinked, and slowly nodded. "Of course." He turned and started down the stairs. Hermione blinked after him. She looked at the Muggle Repelling Charmed-Post It.

"A delay? Wait... Of course!" She gasped. "I gave him an order before the charm could! It must make the victim suggestible before implanting the command!"

Hermione thought some more... And soon wore a truly frightening smile.

She wasn't about to do anything truly horrible to the Dursleys, no, that would be quite unethical... But she could gain a bit of payback for the insult and the way they treated Harry. It was only fair, right?

Though this wouldn't stop her from being angry with him when he got back, oh no. She had plans to make her displeasure known, oh yes.

"Mwahahahahahaha!" Hermione cackled, before she coughed and blushed. Now that wouldn't do at all. She was NOT a wicked witch!

... Well a naughty witch but certainly not wicked!

* * *

Harry Potter had waken up in the school infirmary enough times to know when he was in it again. For a moment he wondered if he had dreamed up the entire summer of sex. After all, he was a teenaged boy and it was on his mind a lot... At least that was the opinion held by the telly. Though, if that was the case then it was particularly cruel of his subconscious to have both Hermione in nothing but a pair of glasses, and Snape being beaten up by Madam Pomphrey and Professor McGonnagal. Not to mention a threesome with Fleur and a really hot punk woman dressed as an Auror.

"Hnn..." He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "This looks familiar..."

He slowly looked up and around the infirmary. Nothing much out of the ordinary-Fleur was in the bed to his right and bound and gagged under the covers, the hot Auror woman was in the bed to his left and sleeping peacefully, and across from him a man with clean black hair was mumbling to himself and cuddling a stuffed hippogriff. It took Harry a little time to recognize him as Snape.

"... Well, fuck."

"Language, Mr. Potter," admonished Professor McGonnagal, as she came out of Madam Pomphrey's office. She had a bandage around her hand, and glanced at Fleur with a bit of a scowl on her way to the side of Harry's bed. Fleur continued to sleep peacefully, and McGonnagal had to snap her fingers to get Harry's attention off her.

"Ah, sorry Professor, but uh..." He shrugged. "What... What's...?"

"I was going to ask you, but I don't think it's too difficult to figure out, right?" She asked, giving Harry a wry smile. Harry blinked, processed that, and very slowly nodded. His body caught up with his brain and he broke out in a massive blush.

"Ah... Um... Yeah," he mumbled. "Uh... Why is Fleur...?"

"She got a bit... Temperamental," McGonnagal answered, touching her bandaged hand. "I thought it best to get you three here before anyone could stumble upon you... Together," she said flatly.

Harry's blushing skin turned into a papery white, and he buried his face in his hands.

"Now stop that, Mr. Potter, this is hardly the most compromising position I've found a student in. Why your father alone-"

"Oh God, please, no more professor!" Harry begged her. McGonnagal's smirked a bit, and she nodded.

"Certainly... Oh, and these are for you," she said, walking over to the window and pulling it open. Five owls flew in, each one dropping off a letter and a dirty look at Harry before flying right back out. Harry blinked dumbly, and opened the first one.

"... I-I'm expelled?" Harry asked in disbelief. "But I didn't-!'

"Keep going," McGonnagal said. Harry opened the second one-It was from Remus, telling him to not use any more magic and that Dumbledore was handling things.

"Okay... That's good news," Harry said. He opened up the third letter, which gave him a court date to argue his case.

The fourth, oddly enough, was a request to appear for the will reading of Lucius Malfoy.

"I'm sorry… Malfoy's dad died?" Harry asked. McGonnagal nodded.

"Yes… I'm afraid that's the case. Apparently he was poisoned by Mr. Avery. Very… Sad news," McGonnagal managed. Harry stared at her. She shrugged.

"He apparently let you quite a bit of money though, and his widow is asking to see you."

"What's she like?" Harry asked.

"Devious, cunning, intelligent, and deserved a far better man than Lucius," McGonnagal said primly. She shrugged. "She also had a shrine to your father when she was younger."

"A shrine…?" Harry coughed. McGonnagal nodded.

"Yes… She may be sympathetic to you, Potter, but stay on your guard," she said. "She's still dangerous and even if she wasn't a Death Eater, her husband was."

"Will you go with me?" Harry asked. McGonnagal nodded.

"Yes, I will, you have nothing to worry about on that end." She'd just inform Albus she was taking Harry off for some simple financial matters. He wouldn't mind and would understand.

If not, she just wouldn't tell him.

Harry opened the final letter, which boomed out loudly:

"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA."

Harry blinked, and looked up at Professor McGonnagal. "I... What?"

"That last one was sent by Professor Dumbledore," McGonnagal said. "To ensure your guardians would not throw you out of the house."

"So... Wait, I'm confused," Harry said. "Do they know what happened?"

"No," McGonnagal said.

"So... Why did he send it?" Harry asked. McGonnagal sighed.

"I really don't know," McGonnagal replied. "You know he means well, but sometimes the Headmaster can be a bit... Off," she said.

* * *

_"Now fly! Fly my pretties, fly!"_

Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, if only we had flying monkeys..."

Fawkes trilled something.

"Well, it would be nice to have hands, wouldn't it?" Dumbledore asked his familiar as the movie reel continued. Fawkes cocked his head and trilled again. Dumbledore shook his head.

"I didn't say anything about the quality of your work, my friend! Don't be so sensitive!"

"Squawk!"

"Are you still on about her? She was no good for you. And she broke up the band, just like I told you she would."

Fawkes squawked again, indignant. Dumbledore hummed cheerfully to himself and turned his attention back to the movie. Fawkes then trilled.

"Am I forgetting something?" Dumbledore thought about it. "Well... I could attend to it now, whatever it is... But here comes the best part!"

Fawkes sighed, and with a bit of resignation turned his attention back to the film.

* * *

"Still, I don't want to keep you from your home any longer than I have to," McGonnagal said. "Especially since you've left Miss Granger behind, and these two are supposed to be AT WORK," she emphasized loudly. The pink haired girl fell out of her bed in shock, and Fleur woke up to do the same, only to be stopped by the leather straps.

"AH! Bollocks!" The woman cried out on the floor.

"Mmph?" Fleur cried out through her gag. She looked about, and her eyes landed on Harry. "Mmmm..."

"Ow. Ow. Ow," the woman groaned. She sat up. "Oh... Wotcher, Harry," she said. McGonnagal sighed.

"Language, Nymphadora?"

"Hey! It's Tonks, Professor!" She groaned. "Oww... So, what happened?"

"Harry's magic set off every underaged magic detector in Surrey," McGonnagal said. "Please, look at these." She handed the letters over to Tonks, who quickly flipped through them. She smiled cheerfully up at Harry.

"Don't worry about a thing, Harry! We've got this in the bag. After all, I'm an Auror, and I saw those things you were up against. I'll testify, say you were authorized, and you're off scot-free."

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Harry asked with a smile. Tonk's hair and her cheeks turned red, and she gave Harry a bit of a sultry look.

"Mmm... In a heartbeat," Tonks said. Harry found himself blushing furiously again. Tonks looked over at Fleur. "And so will Fleur."

Fleur nodded cheerfully, now apparently not bothered by her bondage. Harry had to admit, it wasn't a huge problem for him.

"Now, Mr. Potter, you'll see them later," McGonnagal said. "I don't think you want to keep Miss Granger alone with your relatives any longer than you have to, right? Or be here when Professor Snape wakes up?"

Harry glanced over at the bed. Snape was now sucking his thumb. He'd suddenly give all his fame and money for a camera. Then he realized that, as a wizard, he had access to pensieves... And he smiled brightly.

"No, I do not," he said. "I'll see you both later," he said with a smile at Tonks and Fleur.

"Later, Harry," Tonks said with a warm smile and a wink. Fleur said something similar, though it came out muffled. It was no less sultry though, especially with how she writhed in her straps. Harry stared for a bit, before McGonnagal shook him out of it.

"Ahem... Mr. Potter?"

"Huh? Oh, right," he said. "Uh... These pajamas...?"

"We'll just floo right there," McGonnagal said. "Come along."

As Harry turned to go, Snape groaned and opened his eyes. He and Harry locked gazes. Snape's eyes widened in realization, and his mouth opened.

"Potter, what are you-!"

A hard whack to the back of his head sent him back into dreamland. Harry and McGonnagal stared at Madam Pomphrey, who stood calmly with her bat at the side of Snape's bed. She smiled sweetly.

"He needs his rest," she said. Harry nodded quickly, and allowed himself to be led away by Professor McGonnagal. Madam Pomphrey looked at her other two patients.

"You didn't see anything, did you?"

"Nothing," Tonks said.

"Mmph hmph," Fleur concurred.

* * *

_Sorry it's short but I hope you enjoyed it. More to come. And now, an omake by Tentrees:_

_Omake by Tentrees:_

Sirius was draw into the library at Grimmauld place the next morning by the howls of laughter from inside. As he entered he found Remus, Emmeline and Hestia barely holding themselves in their chairs as they laughed. In front of them was a smug if slyly snickering Tonks stiffly sitting up and reading from what appeared to be a report.

"Alright cousin what are you reading that produced this result?" Sirius said in a worried tone as he plopped down into an armchair. He needed a good laugh after worrying about Harry half the night. And served himself some tea and scones from the tray on the low coffee table.

"Why Padfoot what's got you all down?"

"Someone just tried to kill my godson and I need a good laugh then a good drink, or three." Most of the rest of the room sobered a little at that only to loose it again at Sirius next sentence. "Then there's this hearing that this Hopkirk witch wants to have…" Sirius looked at Tonks and her self satisfied smirk as he stirred his tea.

"Alright dear Nymy," Tonks tensed and her hand twitched toward her wand on the table but let it slide as she realized Sirius was out of the loop as to the majority of the past evenings events.

"Spill to Cousin Sirius what in those dried out shriveled DMLE reports has the hyena section in full roar? Do share."

Smirking Tonks and then sitting up straight and in a prim and proper tone read from the report.

_"To: Mafalda Hopkirk_  
_Improper Use of Magic Office_  
_Ministry of Magic"_

"The dried up prune in the basement," Muttered Emmeline Vance darkly. Earning a glare from Sirius for slowing the flow of information.

_"From: Auror Nymphadora Tonks_  
_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_  
_Ministry of Magic…"_

"Our unsung master mendicant of reports," said Remus airily. Tonks continued on with a slightly wider almost smile.

_"Subject: Results of preliminary investigation into the events surrounding the use Patronus Charm by Harry Potter, Little Whinging, Surry as detected by your office at 2123 local time August 2, 1995." Sirius focused intently on Tonks report and wondered what he was missing that could make the other three adults in the room laugh._

_"At 2122 local both myself and Fleur Delacour, (A) were escorting Harry Potter to a secluded apparition point and then on to a late dinner at the Leaky Cauldron when the effects of approaching dementors were noted both by myself and the other two magicals present. Then I spotted both dementors as the exited a viaduct near our apparition point and attacked all three of us." Hestia interrupted at this point._

"Apparently Fleur and Tonks were stalking Harry and were waiting for him to be in secluded enough position to approach him about being 'escorted' to this late dinner. My understanding was that Ms. Delacour and Tonks were to on his…menu? Or was it desert you had in mind?" Sirius snickered at the blush and red hair that Tonks was displaying, even as she sat stiffly and tried to read the report.

_"I myself attempted to shield both Ms. Delacour and Mr. Potter from attack but was out of position and unable to raise a Patronus charm before Mr. Potters own charm was cast. Mr. Potter tried once and produced what the Ministry sensors recorded as a scale 5 fully corporeal Patronus. The conflagration produced by the attack of Mr. Potters Patronus (a stag in form) on the dementors was purely magical and produced no physical damaged to the surrounding area but did knock all three of us down, stunned us and resulted in damage to our clothing and minor scrapes."_ Remus was the next to interrupt in a dry almost laughing voice.

"Apparently the memories Harry was using were of an… amorous nature…and the backlash of such…sexually charged energy set off Fleurs Veela heritage in a most…spectacular manor." Sirius quirked an eyebrow at Tonks, whose blush deepened. Remus had little pity as teasing Tonks was a lot of fun. "Yes, apparently after she tore Harry's and hers clothes off on the spot as she pinned him to the ground she told Tonks to what was it? Get on this or leave?"

"And how do you know that little details?" Asked Sirius.

Remus smirked. "Myself and Emmeline have a couple of the old monitoring charms we made for bugging the Astronomy tower our sixth year," Sirius began smiling as he remembered the things they'd seen and suspected were this was going. "their attached to a repeater mirror here along with some memory crystals for recording…we have…every stroke…of last nights…recovery time… on crystal." Sirius howled laughing at Tonks prim and proper smile as it contrasted with her beet red face and hair cycling from red to pink. After he had composed himself he asked Tonks to continue, while silently vowing to watch that recording crystal. Tonks may have been his cousin but a naked amorous Veela? That wasn't something you passed up.

_"The effects on the dementors was even more dramatic, it reduced both dementors too their crystallized skeletons and ashes: Something that according to the later responding Unspeakables had never been done in the five hundred years that we have records of dealing with dementors in this country."_ Sirius sat stunned at the implications, all the while wondering how it could have been done and could it be repeated.

_"The backlash of these events stunned us all and it was some time before the three of us could shake of the effects of both the dementors and Mr. Potters response. It was then that I began the process of notification of my superiors and the Ministry. Ms Delacour helped by warding the area with subtle muggle repelling and notice me not charms, while seeing to the repair of Mr. Potters glasses and our clothes which had been damaged by the events of the evening and provide him and myself with minor first aid."_

"After the worked off enough energy to allow Fleur a measure of self-control, Tonks had her repair the clothes she tore of Harry and herself and do so first aid for the claw and teeth marks..."

"The claw marks were on his back, the teeth marks were on that chest…," sighed Emmeline. Sirius snickered and dissolved into laughter foe several minutes, eventually after he recovered he motioned for Tonks to keep reading.

_"When I had shaken off the worst of the backlash, and what seems to have been a magic dampening field caused by the event, I contacted my Auror Captain Kingsly Shacklebolt, at 2235 local, for both back up and reminded him that he should contact the Unspeakables as per standing orders for any scale 5 events. He sent a duty team with an Obliviator and a med witch in support to cover the scene until the Unspeakables could arrive to process the scene."_ Sirius nodded as this had been standard procedure even during the last war.

_I also notified Alastor Moody, Master Auror (ret.) who was going to meet us for dinner that we were going to be late. Master Auror Moody, who was already worried about or missing the dinner appointment arrived at 2241, with Amelia Bones Director of the DMLE who he had been talking to when my message to him arrived._

"Amelia and Moody were having their weekly chess game, when he got Tonks alert message and the one she message." Said Hestia. "She decided to tag along and followed him there."

_The duty team arrived at 2247 Local time. The Unspeakables three man response team arrived at 2315. Both parties expressed concern that the DMLE/Unspeakable notification of the event and its communications in the area had been delayed by methods unknown._

"Yes, that sort of thing happened a lot in the last war." Said Sirius soberly.

_"Then the Message from your office time stamped at 2130 was found near the scene, under what appeared to be a power transformer, which charcoaled the Ministries delivery owl."_

"Fleur fire balled it for interrupting her turn to ride Harry." This brought another round of laughter and Sirus called out. "Thats my boy Harry! Thats my boy!"

_I brought this to the attention of both Auror Captain Shacklebolt and Director Bones. Both expressed concern that somehow your instrumentation at the Ministry was able to function flawlessly in the area when the DMLE grid was confounded and that the initial response by your office was both excessive and outside the normal investigative and judicial procedures for incidents of this nature._

"To right about that," mumbled Sirius taking a deep sip at his beer.

_Investigations into all three above noted abnormalities have been started at Director Bones instructions._

_"With both Director Bones and the Unspeakable team leader "K" present along with Senior Auror Shacklebolt at the scene issued the following preliminary report,"_ Tonks paused and handed over the rest of the report, then snatched up several scones for the rest of her breakfast.

Sirius read the rest of the report to himself, chuckling as he went along.

_Facts of the event:_

_1) There was a muggle present at the other end of the viaduct and he was identified via pensive memory as Dudley Dursley. Harry Potter's first cousin and son too Petunia Dursley nee Evans (a full sister too the late Lily Potter nee Evans, Harry Potters Mother and said magicals aunt and guardian at law in the muggle world). All three reside at Number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surry. As such all three are blood relations of Harry Potter and under the International Statute on Secrecy, and Ministry Law, allowed too know about magic. While young Mr. Dursley could not observe the Dementors as he is a muggle, he did appear to witness the spell effects and ran off rather then wait around (a sound response when ever one has an encounter with dementors and one is not responsible for controlling them)._  
_2) There were two rouge dementors present at the scene of the event and both attacked the three magicals present without provocation or warning. An investigation by the DMLE as to how two such dementors came to be in Surry on August 2 has been launched by the DMLE at Director Bones express order._  
_3) That Mr. Potter did destroy both dementors with a scale 5 corporeal patronus._  
_4) hat Mr. Potter is under age (just turned fifteen) and subject to the Reasonable Restrictions on Underage Magic Act. That he knowingly cast the spell that resulted in the destruction of two dementors in the presence of a muggle but that the muggle in question is allowed to know about magic._  
_5) That the events of the evening of the evening are a clear case of self-defense and defense of another under Section seven of the International Statue on Secrecy and in part eleven of the Reasonable Restrictions on Underage Magic Act._  
_6) That any further action by the Ministry in this case against Mr. Potter is unwarranted. Except that Mr. Potter will be asked by both the Unspeakables and the DMLE to walk through the casting of the spell too see if the effect can be reproduced._  
_7) The headmaster of Hogwarts was also notified as is the proper procedure in cases of underage magic use outside of school in cases like this._  
_8)The ICW was also notified as both a foreign national (Ms. Delacour) was present._

_Please note; Miss Delacour is a adult (age 17) French witch, recent graduate from Beauxbatons School of Magic, and the Tri-wizard champion for that school. She is now working at Gringotts as a curse breakers apprentice. Please also note she has diplomatic immunity in this jurisdiction. Both as a Gringotts employee and the fact that her father, Anton Delacour, is the Ambassador for Magical France to the Court of St. James and she currently resides in the French Magical Embassy. Also note her granduncle is Minister of Finance for the Magical Republic of France, and her godfather is the Minister for the Magical Republic of France._  
_B. As any rouge dementors are considered class SSSS being, basically unkillable creatures of the darkest foulest magics, Mr. Potter was entitled to keep the remains as spoils under Ministry Law and long standing tradition. He graciously has donated all but one skull to the Unspeakables for their research team and is keeping it as a trophy/paper weight and has been granted the appropriate license to keep such a unique if dark specimen by the Department of Mysteries and the DMLE. See copies of attached forms._

_CC: Ministry General Archives_  
_DMLE Records_  
_Department of Mysteries_  
_Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE_  
_APWB Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts_  
_French Ministry of Magic_  
_ICW Advanced Magics Research Office_


	7. Chapter 7

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year_...

* * *

Harry and Professor McGonnagal burst from the Floo fireplace with practiced grace. Well, McGonnagal had the grace. Harry had to practice. A lot.

"Oof!" Harry got back up to his feet, and looked back at his professor. She sighed.

"Honestly Potter, you have the grace of a bird in the air but just throw in a little trip through the Floo, and you're like your father after he'd pissed himself," McGonnagal tutted.

"Ugh... It's not my fault wizarding transportation is bollocks," Harry said. He coughed at the witch's look. "Sorry."

"No, you're quite right Potter, but if anything was easy, it wouldn't be worth it, right?" She asked. "After all, your life has rewarded you a great deal despite the tragedy, has it not?"

"Well, yeah, it has," Harry admitted as they left the house and headed outside. "But it doesn't make annoying things any less annoying, does it?"

"No, you're quite right," McGonnagal said. "Absolutes are a bit difficult to move past in humans. We would prefer things to be black and white, when grays are often what we find. Some figure it out, others don't..." She trailed off as they reached the sidewalk bordering Privet Drive. Harry stopped and stared as well, though for additional reasons.

"Some just… Surprise you," McGonnagal said, looking as though caught between laughter and anger.

First thing he noticed was that Hermione was lounging in a bikini on a beach chair. Understandably, he focused a great deal of attention on this until Professor McGonnagal cleared her throat. Harry reluctantly looked away from his girlfriend to the Dursleys. He blinked again.

Dudley was working hard in the yard, pulling weeds, mowing, and otherwise doing all his chores with a demented grin on his face. How he got back is another story, so just allow him to continue his work in the background of your mind's eye. Aunt Petunia meanwhile was serving drinks to Hermione.

"I... It... Uh..."

"Ms. Granger!" McGonnagal called. Hermione looked up, and blanched.

"Ah! P-Professor!"

"What is going on here?" McGonnagal asked flatly. Hermione coughed and looked around her various minions, guilt written on her face.

"Ah... Well... You see..."

"Hermione, what did you do?" Harry asked.

"Nothing against school rules... I mean, okay, it's perhaps a little unethical, I mean, just a smidge, but it's not _that_ bad, really!"

"Hermione Granger," McGonnagal said flatly. "What have you done?"

"Well... Um..." She held up a sticky note. "I applied Muggle Repelling Wards to these, and there's just a brief moment when a Muggle is exposed to them where they are... Well... Very suggestible..."

"More iced tea, Mistress?" Petunia asked. Hermione bit her lip. Harry's jaw was down to the ground.

"So you brainwashed them," McGonnagal sighed.

"Ah, well, uh... Just a little!" Hermione said. "Experimental purposes at first and then uh..."

Uncle Vernon's car drove up, parking in the driveway of Number 4 with a smooth growl out of the engine. Uncle Vernon opened the door once that growl ceased, and emerged, looking out of sorts.

"I'm back!" Uncle Vernon loudly proclaimed. "I failed though."

"And where did you send him?" McGonnagal asked coldly.

"Er..."

"I couldn't find a single man to bugger me. Not even when I told them I had more... What's the American term?"

"'Cushion for pushin',' dear," Petunia remarked, as though talking about the weather. Harry felt his stomach roil as raw horror filtered throughout his entire body, his mind unable to resist picturing...

"Oh _God_, Hermione," Harry moaned, bracing himself against the fence.

"MISS GRANGER!" McGonnagal roared.

"I-It was just a slip of the tongue! He uh... It..." Hermione wilted under McGonnagal's glare, and sighed. "Come here, Mr. Dursley."

Vernon scampered up like a puppy. Harry felt the contents of his stomach try to force their way up. Hermione held up a Post-It Note to Vernon's face.

"All right... Go inside, relax, take the rest of the day off and tomorrow you will act normally," Hermione ordered. The big man nodded, turned and retired to the house, still wearing that disturbing, brainwashed smile of his. Hermione turned to McGonnagal and Harry.

McGonnagal looked over the Dursleys, sighed, and finally made up her mind.

"Given the danger that Muggles might be put into if this became public, and as it's technically _not_ a violation of the Underaged Magic Laws, I'm going to leave this alone," she said. She glared darkly at Hermione. "However, I am very disappointed in you. Even if they are..." She looked over the Dursleys still in the yard, "them, I expect better from you, Hermione."

"Yes ma'am," Hermione squeaked.

"You really are developing a bit of a mean streak, you know," McGonnagal sighed. "I know about what you did to Rita Skeeter-And don't ask how, it's not the kind of thing to discuss even here. It looks to me you need some... Punishment," McGonnagal said, cocking an eyebrow. She looked over at Harry, who was still trying to resist the urge to empty the contents of his stomach all over the yard.

"Mr. Potter!"

"Yes Professor?" Harry groaned.

"I am going to impart some advice to you on relationships," McGonnagal said. "Not only must you be willing to compromise, but you must also be able to watch out for your partner and ensure they learn from their mistakes."

"Uh... Okay... And how should I do that, here?" Harry asked.

"Simple," McGonnagal stated. She transfigured a stick on the ground in the yard into a paddle, and handed it to Harry. "Discipline her."

Harry's pale face turned bright red, as did Hermione's. McGonnagal merely gave them a saucy little smile.

"You will see to it she learns her lesson, I trust?" She said flatly.

"Uh... Uh... Uh..."

"I will take that as a yes," McGonnagal said. "I will see you at Mrs. Mal... Ms. _Black's_ meeting," she amended. "Tah." With a last little smile she turned on her heel and headed back to Arabella Figg's. Leaving the two teenagers to stare at the paddle, then at each other... And _definitely_ not at the retreating McGonnagal.

* * *

Dolores Umbridge was woken up early by her House Elf, informing her Minister Fudge had asked to see her. After ordering the elf to set himself on fire for daring to interrupt her beauty sleep, she set about primping and preparing her appearance for her meeting.

_This is it... He'll tell me how Potter was found with his soul sucked out, boo hoo! As long as my contacts in the Daily Prophet are paid, we can spin it as the boy going off and getting himself killed!_ How to spin the brat confronting some Dementors might be a bit trickier, but the public didn't need to know _where_ exactly Potter had been Kissed, did they?

Of course they didn't.

Dressed in her finest, pinkest cartigan and in her best applied makeup, Umbridge left her house, her soul soothed by the screams of her impertinent house elf as he sat in the other fireplace. That was the right way to start a morning!

* * *

Umbridge made her way to the Minister's office with a spring in her step and a twinkle in her eye. The hushed tones and muttering of the personnel stopped when she came around. How very good to see her position being appreciated!

Of course, that muttering did concern her a bit. She'd need to get auto-quills into some of the offices, keep track of what everyone was saying. Who knew what one person could say to bring down morale, or introduce bad thinking. Why, just imagine if someone started saying that Potter might have been _murdered!_ That would just not do. They couldn't be allowed to think that way, it would just make their jobs more difficult.

She entered the Minister's office and with a smile to the bowed head of his secretary, entered Fudge's sanctum.

"Cornelius~! I'm here~!" She announced cheerfully.

"Dolores," Fudge returned, in a downright icy tone. Umbridge froze at this, and stared in significant confusion at the flat expression on Fudge's face.

"Ah... Is something the matter, Minister?" Umbridge asked. Fudge huffed, and crossed his arms over his chest. It did little to make the man more physically intimidating, but his office made Umbridge far more wary.

"Yes, I should bloody well think so," he growled. "Those Dementors... They... They...!"

Oh. Oh! Of course. She knew the Minister's heart perfectly, his weakness. To kill off a boy with his power was not something he could really stomach. She could sooth it away though-Her mother always did say she was very good at comforting, right after her dear Mudblood nursemaid had committed suicide.

How the two were connected Umbridge still wasn't sure but she was always willing to give her mother the benefit of the doubt.

"There there, Minister," she said, walking up and patting him lightly on the shoulder. "Such actions may seem... Unsavory, but they really are for the Greater Good."

"The Greater Good?" Fudge asked.

"The Greater Good," Umbridge confirmed. "Think of it as a blessing in disguise."

"How?" Fudge demanded. "There's the trial, after all! And how we can make this seem like a _bad_ thing is beyond me when he's going to be talking to Dumbledore...!"

Umbridge's patting of his shoulder ended. Fudge looked up to see his Under-Secretary's eyes bulging, like a toad on a hot plate.

"_Hem hem..._ Excuse me Minister, but... Are you saying Potter... Survived?" Umbridge asked. Fudge nodded, sighing deeply.

"Oh yes. Apparently he briefly overloaded the magic sensors at the Office of Inappropriate Magic use-A Patronus the size of a bus! Can you believe it?" Fudge shook his head in disbelief, as Umbridge's eyes bulged out even further. "Right off the scale! The Auror on the scene reported he actually _destroyed_ the Dementors."

"D-Destroyed?" Umbridge squeaked. "But that-That-"

"Hasn't been done in centuries," Fudge confirmed. "Yes." He sighed. "On one hand, we've got him on Inappropriate Magic Use. On the other... I've got Amelia Bones demanding to bring him in for questioning on just how he pulled that off. A little early recruitment, you might say," he said with a humorless smile.

Umbridge coughed. "Ah... Well... That is..."

"And there's the fact the public has never trusted the Dementors, and here we have a wizard, a _fourteen year old_ wizard capable of destroying them, who also vanquished Lord... Thingy," Fudge got out. He sighed.

"Honestly, this whole idea was nonsense from the get go, Dolores!" Fudge huffed. He scowled at her intensely. "You didn't _think_ that someone might ask what a pair of Dementors were doing in Surrey?"

Umbridge coughed. She just now realized that she hadn't thought of that at all. Fudge scowled.

"Damn you for giving me the idea, and damn ME for being stupid enough to go along with it!" He huffed. He turned a severe glare on Umbridge. "I really should just have you _fired_ right now and be done with it!"

"B-But sir-!"

"Or I could turn you over to the Aurors! It was _your_ idea, after all," Fudge growled.

"But-But you-!"

"I? What did _I_ do?" Fudge asked flatly. "You gave the order. There's no proof I agreed to anything!" The rotound politician smirked. "And even if people think I'm an idiot, they don't think I'm a _murderer_."

Cold hands siezed Umbridge's heart, and she felt faint. She had to do something, fast, otherwise she was going to go down hard. Oh why oh why didn't she think to record her conversations with the Minister?

"I-Please! Give me another change, Minister!" Umbridge begged. Fudge shook his head.

"Nope, I think I'm quite done with giving you those." He tapped his wand twice. "Secretary? Please get me the Aurors. Madam Umbridge is leaving."

A pair of invisibility cloaks came off two Aurors, both of whom had their wands pointed at Fudge and Umbridge. The Minister's face purpled as the doors opened, and Amelia Bones entered the office. His secretary was there as well, brandishing her Auror badge with a large smile.

"Of course, Minister," the secretary said with an unpleasant grin. "And so are you."

Umbridge coughed.

"Well, um… Very good! My ploy worked perfectly! Take him away!"

Madam Bones gave her an incredulous expression. "You really expect us to believe that?"

"Yes, I do," Umbridge said in her sickly sweet voice.

"Can I blast her, ma'am?" The secretary asked with a pleading look in her eyes. Bones gave it just enough serious thought to allow Umbridge to turn pale in fear, before smiling.

"Maybe later… If she resists," she said.

"Oh bugger," Umbridge muttered.

"Oh bugger, indeed," Fudge said sarcastically.

* * *

In Hogsmeade, there is a former store called **Marionette's**, a store that at one time sold magical dolls, playmates for kids and lonely people.

The latter is probably partly responsible for why it was closed. The other reason was that the creator was a Muggleborn, making money, and certain pureblood members of society didn't want to see such occur.

One vote in the Wizengamot and it was closed.

However, the women who loved Potter Hunting, as it were, knew it had a second use.

This was why Narcissa Malfoy—recently widowed member of High Society—was inside the abandoned shop. There was a secret known only to certain women, women who could be trusted, women who would not betray this path, or abuse it.

You see, according the both the Marauders and their map, only two secret passages in Hogwarts were still usable, safe for people to traverse and do what they wished. The other four had all collapsed.

That was not exactly true.

Entering the basement, Narcissa tapped her wand to a brick in the middle of an exposed wall, a brick that would never stand out unless you knew where it was. As nothing happened, she had to smile, as that meant the security spells placed long before her time in Hogwarts still functioned, though she did not doubt they would likely need serviced soon—best to not let them continue on until they failed.

"I seek to place my bet," she muttered.

As with the secret entrance to Diagon Alley, the bricks folded back, revealing a passageway. Clear stoned, embedded within the side and top of the passage began to glow a soft white, allowing a person to see through the tunnel without using their wands.

Smiling at memories of youth, Narcissa entered.

Finally, she came to what appeared to be a caved-in section of the tunnel, shaking her head, as she looked about, before focusing on the third light stone on her left, before tapping it with her wand again. "Time to play the slots," she said. "Let the one-armed bandit pay out."

Truthfully, she didn't know what the former pass phrases were. Nevertheless, if forced to guess, she would surmise that whoever last serviced the wards and spells for the tunnel, was likely another satisfied customer of James Potter. _I do wonder what the new phrases will be when Harry begins his tour,_ she pondered.

As if by magic—which in truth, it was—the stones began to rise, seemingly fitting back into their proper place, creating a clear path towards what looked like a pane of glass, with a dark-skinned witch standing before it.

Smiling, Narcissa approached the glass, tapped it with her wand, causing it to open. "Aurora."

"Narcissa," the black witch smiled. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Yes, I do miss those shoes. Sadly, they could not be salvaged."

"I was talking about your husband," the other witch continued to smile.

"Oh, him; whatever," Narcissa waved off. "Love of my life, yadda-yadda-yadda, missed till the end of time.

"You would think as often as the Black Family 'lost' spouses, they would have had some speeches prepared for it," the Malfoy widow snorted, before hugging the woman. "It has been too long."

"Indeed," Aurora responded. "I do wish you luck trying to turn your son into something worthy."

Sighing softly, Narcissa nodded. "It will be a difficult task. I often wonder if Lucius feared Draco might usurp him, as Lucius did his own father, to explain Draco's lack of … refinement. Perhaps when I meet with Lord Potter to 'discuss' some items, I can have him pick up the level of rivalry between them. Draco may simply need to be shown his current level is not up to par."

Nodding, Aurora motioned for her to follow. She had no fear of the portraits revealing to the Headmaster about the unauthorized guest. The path had been chosen just for that, as well as several abandoned classrooms for the 'liaisons' to occur in. After all, Hogwarts did have so many unused rooms, and such were better for the intimate acts to occur in than some cramped broom closet.

Nothing ended the mood quicker than a mop handle up the backside.

"So, have the others approached you yet?"

Narcissa raised her eyebrow. "Define which others you speak of."

"Both."

"Ah, those associated with my husband's … extracurricular activities have made some attempts to contact me, most likely to see if I will support the Dark Lord, some at least to try and woo me to gain access to the Malfoy vaults, and the Minister to see if his usual 'donations' will still be given."

The professor could only snort. "A high-class vulture is still a vulture."

"Agreed," Narcissa stated, before pausing at a classroom. Casting several spells on the door and on the desks, chairs, and tables, she nodded and moved on, deciding that the classroom would still serve its purpose for now, but reminding herself to get the entire setup serviced before school started. It simply would not do for a Potter to have an injury because a preset transfiguration failed and dropped them on the hard, unforgiving stone floor.

"As for those of us who wished to 'thank' the Dark Lord for murdering James Potter, well… It will take some time, but I do fear that at the very least, dear Bella will find her love lacking."

"Oh yes," Aurora nodded, checking a classroom now, making a note to start asking the House Elves to start cleaning this section of the castle again. "It would simply not do to have him stop another Potter."

"Feeling an itch, my dear?"

"You've seen what I have to choose from here," Aurora waved about. "Lockhart had all the skill of a Snape to pick up women, Lupin would never take a hint, and… Well, let's say the pickings are quite slim."

"Yes, such a failure of society to keep males up to some sort of standard of presentation," Narcissa replied. "I may take over my husband's seat on the Board of Governors and try and have some etiquette class taught. I shudder to think how much such simple things will suffer a hundred years from now."

"Did you know Muggles now have places where they go, just to try and improve the shape and appearance of their bodies?" Sinestra asked. Reaching into her robes, she pulled out a large page from a magazine, showing a muscled male, flexing for the camera. The fact the page never moved proved it to be Muggle in making. "I confiscated this from several Ravenclaws last year."

"… Oh my," Narcissa muttered, trying not to drool. "Perhaps the hatred for Muggleborns is not as clear as stated," she replied. Oh yes, if Muggles could look like that, more than a few Pureblood women would not bother with marrying the elite males of the Wizarding World, society be damned. Dozens of potions to give a male an erection, but nothing to make them look so … yummy. _I wonder if Potter will look like this in a few years…_ "I do believe this will have to be researched, see if … this can be made to also occur in our world."

"One can certainly hope." Nodding her head as the corridor was finally checked to be in working order and cleared of any major debris, the two made their way back to the mirror, the secret entrance in Hogwarts for the passageway.

"So, when will you meet Harry?"

"Oh, it will have to be soon. My contacts in the DLME reported that two rogue Dementors attacked Potter near his home. I'm sure Dumbledore will try to move him 'for his own safety' soon enough, and that will make him all but unapproachable until the school year starts. I just first have to ensure that Draco is kept busy. Who knows what he would do should he learn I am meeting Harry."

"Seeing his performance these last few years, it will be poorly planned, poorly executed, and likely to fail," Aurora stated.

"Yes, I do wonder how he ended up in Slytherin, but at least his is no Crabbe and Goyle."

"Thank Merlin."

* * *

_Sorry for the short update but I think you'll agree it's better than nothing. The Narcissa subplot was largely written by Innortal. Go see his fics on his page, bug him to write more._


	8. Chapter 8

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year_...

* * *

The news that Minister Fudge had collaborated with his Under-Secretary to try and murder Harry Potter sent shockwaves rippling through the British Magical World, as more and more corruption was uncovered. Among these acts of corruption were the following:

A list of various bribes and under the table political contributions from Lucius Malfoy and other former Death Eaters (which were identical to records the newly widowed Narcissa Black was all too happy to turn over).

The signatures of Fudge and Umbridge on new educational statutes to be employed at Hogwarts upon Umbridge's tenure as the new Defense against the Dark Arts, including monitoring charms to be used to detect dissension, utilizing textbooks that taught no actual Defense against the Dark Arts, and preparing to create a special position: High Inquisitor, allowing Umbridge to question the loyalty of the faculty and enforce it through open-ended means.

Finally, there was Minister Fudge's novel length work: "My Evil Plan to Discredit Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore", which was to be published upon completion of said evil plan once Fudge thought up a better title. It was soon published anyway, despite Fudge's protests that the title was "a placeholder".

It became a best seller mere hours after it's release, and to contribute to the PR frenzy the Daily Prophet was, thanks to Narcissa Black's subtle intervention behind the scenes, made publicly owned and published every single thing it could in regards to Fudge's activities and the truth about Voldemort's return. Change was rushing through the Wizarding World and nobody really knew what the full extent of the consequences would be.

All of this was completely unknown to Harry Potter. Truth be told, he wouldn't really care. He was sitting with Hermione on his bed in his room, the paddle in his hand. Both were staring at it, then each other. It had continued in this vein for some time, neither able to really come up with something to say.

"... So..." Harry began.

"So..." Hermione encouraged.

The two looked at each other. Hermione laughed nervously.

"This-This is ridiculous... I mean, we've had sex."

"Yes," Harry said. "We have."

"We've talked about this before," Hermione said. "We-We shouldn't be worried about... About trying new things... Right?"

Harry nodded. "Right."

"So... How about you start?" She asked. Harry stared at her. Hermione flushed.

"Well... You-You are... Well..."

Harry sighed. "Look, Hermione... This has been the best summer ever, really... But I'm not sure how it came to be. You've changed, so quickly. I've been moving so fast I haven't had a chance to think, but now..." He shrugged. "What happened?"

Hermione took a deep breath, and then let it out. "Well... Um... I went to France with my family, like I always do. Two weeks, beaches, tanning... Fleur invited me to see her family, and so I went."

Harry slowly nodded. "All right... What happened?"

"Well, there were a few issues but... Well... I had been in France before..."

* * *

"Totally nude?"

"Oui. You should not hide your body, Hermione! You have nothing to hide. We're all, how you say, 'girls here?'"

"Well, I have been to nude beaches before... Okay!"

"Wonderful! After you are properly attired, we must apply ze sunscreen. No sense in getting burnt, oui?"

"I totally agree Fleur!"

* * *

"Well, she is a very nice girl once you're past her hard exterior," Harry mused. "What happened next?"

"Fleur really helped me settle in, insisting on attending to my needs personally," Hermione said.

* * *

"Ah... Fleur? What are you doing?"

"You are ze guest are you not? I will apply ze sun lotion. Lay down please~."

"You don't have to, really-"

"Now Hermione, don't tell me you wish to be burnt. You cannot reach everywhere, can you not? My aunt and her... Ah... Friend over there are applying sunscreen to each other."

"Ah... Y-Yes..."

"See how they are not missing a single spot?"

"I uh... I can definitely see that."

"Well then, just relax~..."

"I-I-I uh... Ohhhh... O-Okay, that's nice..."

"Isn't it?"

"Mmmm..."

* * *

"She was all too happy to show me ways to shed the stress I'd been building up since... Well, since I entered Hogwarts, really."

* * *

"Ohhhh God yesssss...!"

"My dear Hermione, you put too much upon yourself! All these knots in your back, it is so very bad for your health!"

"I-I can't help it, mmm...! I have to-to stay on tooohhhh...!"

"Yes, but as ze Bible says, there is a time for work and a time for play, oui?"

"Ahhh... You read it?"

"But of course! We are all here virtuous maidens, saving ourselves for our true love."

"Uh... Then what are those girls over there doing?"

"Practicing for our true loves, of course."

"... With a statue."

"Well, virtue can be different between cultures, can it not? Now, time to turn over~."

"Uh, Fleur, I-I think I can get my front-Eep!"

"Now now, I am ze hostess, not ze guest. You are to be pampered, I am to go down-Er, I mean, get down and serve you to ze best of my abilities!"

"I-I don't think you need to go down quite so faarrrr!"

* * *

"We had a wonderful day at the beach," Hermione concluded. "Afterwards, I was so tired I went to bed. But Fleur still insisted on... Talking."

* * *

"... Fleur?"

"Oui?"

"What are you doing in my bed?"

"It gets so terribly cold sometimes at night."

"It feels very warm to me-EEP!"

"Zen I am doing my job correctly, am I not?"

"F-Fleur! Th-That's plenty warm!"

"What about zese?"

"EEP! V-Very warm! Very warm!"

"Are you certain? Let me just see how warm I can make you~..."

* * *

"I really tried to resist but she insisted on getting my issues... Um... Out in the open."

* * *

"Oh my! I have never seen someone squirt so far!"

"Haa... Haa... Haa... Fl-Fleurrr..."

"It hit the mirror! It must be three meters!"

"Fleeeuuurrr..."

"Mm? What?"

"Why...? Why did you do that?"

"I saw you were very stressed... In a particular way."

"In... In wha... Oh."

"Oui. I do not blame you. Friends with 'Arry, friends with Ronald. Both brave, strapping young lads... Both horribly clueless about women."

"You've got that right..."

"Well, perhaps you simply need to get their attention. Be more involved in their lives!"

"But-But I am involved! I get them to study, I remind them of-"

"Oui, oui, and zat is the problem! How often do you actually have fun with them?"

"I-I have lots of fun! I... We play Exploding Snap!"

"And...?"

"And... And we went to the Quidditch world cup..."

"And...?"

"And... And... We... Study?"

"Do you make that fun?"

"It is fun though!"

"For them, or for you?"

"It's always fun! THey just refuse to see that!"

"Hmmm... I see. Zis is more serious than I thought. Clearly, you require some more loosening up."

"What? N-No, no, I'm good I'm good I'm gooooOOOHHHHH!"

* * *

"She... Taught me a lot," Hermione said with a bright blush.

* * *

"SWEET BABY MAEVE YESSSSSSSS! Haa... Haa... Haa..."

"Mmmm... You are like a cute little kitty cat. Purr for me, Kitty Cat~."

"Ohhhmmmm..."

* * *

"And made sure I knew that my... Uh... That any hardship was worth it."

* * *

"You have been a very bad kitty, Hermione! Count for Fleur~."

"Wh-What-? OW! OWOWOW! What was that-OW!"

"That was not un, my dear kitty."

"OW! Okay, okay, bugger it all! Un! OW! DuWAH! T-TWAT! I mean TWA!"

* * *

"The rest of Fleur's Veela relations and friends pitched in too."

* * *

"Um, what is this called Fleur?"

"I believe it is named 'Ze Wheel'. And you get to be one of ze spokes!"

* * *

"So when I left after two weeks, I felt better than I ever had before," Hermione said. "Enough so when you seduced me, um..." She blushed and smiled. "I was open to it."

Harry stared at Hermione for a long time. Hermione coughed.

"... You had sex with them didn't you?" Harry said.

Hermione's whole body turned red, and she very slowly nodded.

"And some of it involved paddling your arse, didn't it?"

She nodded again. Harry looked down at the paddle, and then back at Hermione.

"... I have never been more turned on in my life," he admitted.

Hermione licked her lips. "Me neither."

* * *

The room wherein the Order of the Pheonix met regularly at Grimmauld Place was dark, only candlelight illuminating the faces of those present. Within this eerie darkness, Sirius Black stepped forward, his eyes shadowed in the dim light.

"I am gray. We stand between the darkness and the light... Between the candle, and the star..." He intoned solemnly. "We are gray. We stand between incompetents and the competent. Between super sexy and dead sexy... No wait, that's just me."

"Padfoot," Lupin sighed. Sirius shrugged and grinned.

"Well I can't decide which one I like being called better: Super Sexy, or Dead Sexy. Maybe it depends on what I'm wearing at the time. I've got this lovely little number-"

"Blimey, who knew Harry's godfather was a poofter?" George Weasley commented.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Fred added.

"Poofters can be pranking gods too."

"Just look at Hermes! Screwed anything alive."

"Or Zeus!"

"Or Mercury!"

"Same as Hermes, brother o' mine."

"Really?"

"If you're quite done," McGonnagal said flatly, casting a severe expression at her students. The twins looked appropriately contrite. Sirius was about to retort but McGonnagal's glare shut him up too.

"Yes Professor."

"McGonnagal."

"Or are we old enough to call you Minerva now?"

"Perhaps a bit too informal-"

"We're getting off track again," Pomphrey said calmly. "And why is it so bloody dark in here?"

"Atmosphere," Sirius said seriously. At the nurse's look he sighed. "Fine." He flicked his wand and the lights came back, revealing a fair number of members of the Order. "What the...? How'd you all get in here?"

"You left the parlor door open," Moody grunted. "Very bad security, that. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

"Er, I just snuck in to... Read a few books?" Hestia Jones said with a nervous smile. Emmeline Vance shrugged and smiled cheerfully.

"I was raiding the larder. You have quite a nice selection of wines you know."

"Since when did this become a student dormitory?" Sirius demanded. "It's my _house_, not your bloody mum's! What's next: Tonks hawking my good china to pay for a Playstation? Shacklebolt stealing my stuffed manticore for a coat rack?"

"What's a Playstation?" Emmeline asked Hestia.

"He has a stuffed manticore?" Hestia asked Emmeline.

"Quit yer whinin' already," Moody grunted. "You opened the house to guests, yer askin' for trouble from the start. Sides, we got more important things to worry about." He leaned forward on his walking stick. "With Malfoy dead, his widow in control o' his finances, and Fudge and every other stinkin' Death Eater out on his ear in the Ministry, we've got the advantage for the first time in..."

"Ever?" Pomphrey suggested dryly. Moody shrugged but conceded the point.

"Right. We need to keep the pressure on. I think gettin' Malfoy's widow on our side should be our next step."

"Oh? And how do you suggest we do that? Have Sirius go over and reconcile, cousin to cousin?" Emmeline asked dryly.

"I think the last time we spoke civilly was after I'd tugged on her pigtails," Sirius mused. At everyone's looks he got defensive. "We were nine!"

"As amusin' as it would be to see the mutt turn our situation tits up," Moody cut in, ignoring Sirius's scowl, "we need to play this right. Potter's been invited to the will reading has he not?"

"Yes," McGonnagal said with narrowed eyes. "I think we can manage it. The Goblins will be the neutral party in the meeting, and they don't allow their customers to kill eachother."

"Do keep in mind who her son is," Fred said.

"Draco Malfoy," George added.

"He's a daft git-"

"-and a moron-"

"-and might get himself killed-"

"-if he tries something-"

"-which he probably will."

The twins smiled.

"So we're all for Harry going to this meeting," they said together.

"What does Dumbledore think about this?" Hestia asked.

"... I haven't actually told him about it," McGonnagal admitted. "Given the Fudge situation I feel it would be better if we kept this from him. Take care of it so he can focus on the big picture."

"Keep him from screwing it up?" Sirius asked.

McGonnagal shrugged. "If you'd prefer to see it that way, then by all means don't let me change your mind."

"I shall," Sirius said. He frowned thoughtfully. "Invited to the will reading... Do you have the letter?"

"Potter has the original, I have a copy though," McGonnagal replied, handing Sirius the letter. Sirius read through it. His brows rose slightly. Lupin moved next to his best friend and looked at his face intently.

"Sirius?"

_Hmmm... Smells like her perfume, has the same style, same word usage..._ He grinned and looked at Remus.

"The fox is in the lion house."

"With or without the meatgrinder?" Lupin asked.

"Potatoes," Sirius returned with utter Siriusness.

Remus whistled. "Same fox?"

"Probably kits along too."

"Whole flock?"

"Southern eggs," Sirius confirmed. Lupin shook his head with a smile.

"The whole damn zoo's been shut down."

"... I'm sorry, _what?_" Hestia demanded.

"Marauder code. I think you can get the gist," McGonnagal said with a faintly amused look on her face.

Sirius smiled. "I think it's a good idea," he said. "After all, my dear cousin could use the warmth and compassion of my godson to help her get past her husband's untimely death."

"Yes, I'm _sure_ she could," McGonnagal said dryly. Pomphrey chuckled. Sirius's smile turned into a grin.

_I think this will definitely count as... What did Tonks call it? Ah. 'The Next Level.'_

"Excuse me, did I miss something here?" Emmeline asked. "What's got you grinning?"

"Considering how irresistible Harry's been to attractive older women..." Remus said, but trailed off at the red developing on Emmeline and Hestia's cheeks. He smiled and shrugged at McGonnagal who looked at him with a twitching lip beneath her narrowed eyes.

Moody sighed as the Weasley Twins began to celebrate, and shook his head.

"Well, if gettin' into bed with the enemy will resolve this, I can't say I blame the lad," he chuckled.

"Excellent," Sirius said with a downright evil smile, holding his hands together in a manner reminiscent of a certain animated billionaire.

"So, now what do we do?" Hestia asked. Sirius shrugged.

"How about watching Snape for a while?"

"What have you done to him now?" Hestia sighed, though she sounded curious despite herself. Sirius grinned.

"Well, I did just a little research into his viewing habits while at home, so as a result..."

* * *

"M-Mustn't run away, mustn't run away, mustn't run away," Snape muttered over and over, rocking back and forth in a fetal position as the stuffed Hippogriff just continued to stare with it's adorable googly eyes.

* * *

_Sorry once again for the short chapter but this way I can get the whole Narcissa discussion thing into one chapter. Next time._


	9. Chapter 9

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year..._

* * *

Narcissa Black rummaged through her vast wardrobe, trying to locate That Dress. That Dress was always capitalized, for it deserved it. She'd worn it only once before at a Christmas Party some years ago held by Minister Fudge, and it was safe to say that the reactions it garnered had sent all of the attendees into fits of envy, lust, or both.

Lucius had been very put out though, primarily due to the fact that she had been prettier than him at the ball. She snorted in laughter-Well, now he would remain pristine in the graveyard. The burial preparations had seen to that.

_Where, where...? Oh yes... Here you are,_ she thought, taking hold of the dress and removing it from the rack. It was enclosed in a magical bag, and she unzipped it with reverence.

_Yes... Just how I left you_, she thought. She held the dress to her bosom and stroked it.

"You're going to help Mommy get laid, aren't you my dear? Yes you are, yes you are," she cooed to the dress.

"You know, I'm all for sex but it's disturbing to see you do that," her wardrobe mirror commented. One of them-There were three arranged in an alcove so that she could see herself from every angle. It also had the side effect of three voices of criticism.

"It's That Dress, she'll always be like that," the right mirror commented. The left mirror huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's been a few years, what makes you think it will still fit?" She asked snidely. Narcissa finished dressing and walked up to the mirrors, and turned around. All three of her reflections were staring at her and at each other.

"... Do I really look like that?" The center mirror asked.

"Yes we do," the right mirror whispered. Center licked her lips.

"Merlin we are _hot_," Center said. "Could you press your boobs against the glass, just for a second?"

"She'd ruin the dress," Left commented.

"So?"

Narcissa chuckled, and slowly leaned over with a warm look in her eyes as she lightly ran her breasts over the surface of the mirror. Center reflection seemed to faint away, leaving the other two reflections to watch her fall to her knees.

"I'm having imaginary orgasms," she moaned.

"You're such a _slut_," Left said flatly.

"A slut who's going to get laid!" Right cheered.

Narcissa looked through her collection of perfumes. She arched an elegant eyebrow at a scent she hadn't worn in years, and took it down from the shelf. She smiled.

"Ah, good old number Nine and three quarters," she said. "'Guaranteed to overpower the will of the most clueless male.'"

"Kind of perverse, naming it for a train stop for a school," Left commented.

"That's half the fun," Right said cheekily.

"Slut," Left snorted.

"Bitch," Right returned.

"If you can figure out how to make out with each other, I'll bring him in here," Narcissa purred. All three Narcissas looked at each other, before running at their mirrors. As one, all three slammed into them and fell back. Narcissa shook her head and chuckled.

"Works every time..."

* * *

Minerva and Poppy walked up to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office entrance together. Minerva glanced over at her friend and raised her eyebrows.

"You don't have to come with me, Poppy," she said. "If this goes badly, there's no need for you to suffer the consequences too."

"No matter what happens Minerva, I'll stand by your side. We're in this together," Poppy replied, brows knit in a serious expression.

The two women locked their gazes together, determined and ready to weather any storm.

"It means so much to me that you're here, Poppy," Minerva said. Poppy nodded, her lips twitching.

"Where else could I... Could I...?" She snickered and at that point, Minerva lost it as well. Both women began to laugh.

"Hahahaha! Oh... Oh Merlin, your face," Minerva snickered.

"We-We really need to work on that," Poppy giggled. "Honestly, that scowl of yours! How can anyone look at that and not laugh?"

"Most haven't known me long enough to tell between an exaggeration and the real thing," Minerva pointed out between laughs.

The two friends laughed for a bit longer, before regaining their composure like the consummate professionals they were. Minerva cleared her throat and shook her head.

"Well, now that we've got that out of our systems... It's time," she said. Poppy nodded, and they both turned to the gargoyle.

"Sherbert Lemon," Minerva commanded, and the Gargoyle sprang to the side. Both women approached the office doors, behind which could be heard a faint roar. The witches stopped, and looked at each other.

"What is all that?" Poppy asked. Minerva drew her wand, as did Poppy. The Transfiguration teacher cracked the door open a bit, and peered inside. Her comrade copied the maneuver.

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore, you really must look at these figures-!"

"The whole clerks division for the second floor was taking bribes-"

"What are we going to do about the Daily Prophet fall out? _Nobody_ will trust us again!"

_"WON'T SOMEONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?"_

There was a crowd of people in front of the Headmaster's desk, all talking and shouting at the same time. At said desk, Dumbledore was calmly addressing problems... But judging by how many lemon drops he was consuming and Fawkes' agitation, this had been going on for a while. Minerva and Poppy looked at each other. Communicating silently, in the manner of all old time friends, they opened the doors and entered the office. Minerva held her wand over her head and fired off a spell that sounded like a cannon going off.

Every eye was soon on them. Minerva cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, but what is going on?" She asked flatly.

"Didn't you hear? Fudge has been indicted for trying to kill Harry Potter!" One of the petitioners said.

"Death Eaters are everywhere in the Ministry!" Cried another.

"THE CHILDREN! THOSE POOR CHILDREN!" Wailed a matron. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Now, everyone-I believe the standard protocols for a new election are written down in the Department Archives," Dumbledore said. "As for those other issues-"

"The Headmaster will be happy to address them at a later time, but at the moment he has much more pressing matters to attend to," Poppy quickly interjected.

"What kind of matters?" Demanded one of the petitioners. Minerva fixed him with a dark look, and he cowered back.

"Very important ones," Minerva said. "Besides... At this time, Dumbledore has no real power, remember? He is no longer Chief Warlock, or the Mugwump. So why petition him?"

"Unless he has those positions back," Poppy asked in an innocent tone. A number of the petitioners stared like deer confronted by headlights, before in a massed mob they headed for the floo fireplace or the doors.

"Terribly sorry, need to see to some things-"

"Paperwork to fill out, that sort of thing-"

"_CHILDREN_!" Cried the matron again as she jumped into the Floo. In a matter of minutes, the office was clear and Dumbledore had a look of profound relief on his face.

"Thank you Minerva, Poppy," he sighed. "I didn't expect them all to just come through Cornelius's floo... All at once."

"The fall out from this is pretty big, but it'll probably be largely in our favor," Minerva said. Dumbledore nodded.

"It is regrettable that Cornelius became so corrupt... And regrettable I did not pay more attention." He sighed and rubbed his temples, looking extremely tired. "I fear I did not see this coming though. How is Harry?"

"He's perfectly fine," Poppy said. "He's recovered from the Dementor attack, as have Tonks and Fleur."

"And Snape?"

"He should be ready to resume his duties today," Poppy concluded. Dumbledore nodded.

"Good. We will require all the help we can get. There's a massive organizational shift going on in the Ministry and at the moment, we are vulnerable. Voldemort might decide to take advantage of the situation-"

"About that," Minerva said. "Given that Narcissa Black invited Potter to the will reading, I think it's a great opportunity to get her on our side."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm... Yes, you're right. She did help break open this entire matter."

"She may only have her own... Er... _Ambitions_ in mind, but I think it's unlikely they involve harming Potter. Therefore, she's a potential ally," Minerva said. Dumbledore frowned.

"I am reluctant to involve Harry in anything that dangerous... It's still too soon."

"Albus," Minerva said patiently, but her voice was hard as steel, "your plan, I think, will need to be heavily revised."

"But it was a good plan," Dumbledore said.

"Albus, it involved you _dying_," Poppy said flatly. Dumbledore stared at her in disbelief.

"How did you-?"

"Please Albus, I've known you a long time," Poppy said with a perfectly straight face, though it did not escape Minerva's notice she was avoiding Dumbledore's eyes.

"Clearly better than I thought," Dumbledore said. He sighed, leaning back in his chair looking troubled. Minerva and Poppy walked around his desk to either side of him. Minerva held his hand, while Poppy patted his shoulder.

"Besides, you were always a fan of the classics. The mentor has to die for the hero to take his place, right?" Poppy asked. Dumbledore looked to the side. Minerva scowled at him.

"Albus," she said warningly.

"... Maybe a little," he admitted.

"What else was in this plan?" Minerva asked flatly. Dumbledore sighed.

"Well, since it seems to be largely ineffective now... I had calculated that the Ministry would fall to Voldemort and Harry and his friends would have to go underground in order to find Voldemort's means of immortality and destroy them. There aren't many forms of immortality available that do not require physical grounding, after all."

"Horcruxes," Poppy guessed. Dumbledore nodded grimly.

"Yes... I believe that would be the most likely means."

"So, you would die, and rely on Harry to find You-Know-Who's means of immortality and destroy them," Minerva said. She shook her head. "That's... Quite the way to end his childhood, Albus."

"It wasn't my first choice," he admitted. "But it would have to be done."

"Right... And uh, what happens to the rest of us?" Minerva asked patiently.

"That, I hadn't figured out," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Probably a lot of you would die."

"Oh. _Good_," Minerva said dryly. "Well! If it's all right with you, Albus, I've put together my _own_ little plan. It's very modest and short term, I assure you. You might be able to use it as the basis for a new plan."

"A new plan?" Dumbledore asked, brow creased in thought. He nodded and smiled.

"Of course! I need a new plan. It's the most obvious solution, after all."

"I'm glad you're being so flexible, Albus," Minerva said.

"It's more attractive than you in those earmuffs of yours," Poppy added. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Now Poppy, please, you will make me blush."

"My plan is rather simple," Minerva said. "We will have Harry befriend Narcissa Black and convince her to either become an ally, or at least stay neutral."

Dumbledore nodded. "Right..."

"She will neutralize Draco-He's been stirring up the Slytherin students to favor You-Know-Who. We have an opportunity to stop that and prevent them from becoming his minions," Minerva continued. Dumbledore nodded.

"All right..."

"And then, we will use her to get the word out about You-Know-Who-All right, Voldemort's return," Minerva said at Dumbledore's look. "Through the Daily Prophet."

"Hmmm..." Dumbledore thought aloud. He was quiet for a long time. Minerva raised her hand and waved it, which made Dumbledore stare at her. She coughed, and rolled her wrist around.

"Delicate wrists," she said. Dumbledore nodded.

"Of course... I hate to ask this Minerva, but could you-?"

"Accompany Harry to the will reading and keep him out of trouble?" Minerva asked with a smile. "But of course! Don't worry about a thing, Albus. We _will_ succeed."

"I have no doubt you will," Albus said with a smile. "I shall need all the time I can find to create a new plan. However, I would love your input on it."

"Oh, not at all, I'd be delighted," Minerva said modestly. "I have to get going Albus. We will see you later."

"Good bye, and good luck," Dumbledore said. Both witches nodded to him, and headed out of the office. Once the doors shut behind them, and the gargoyle resumed it's place, Minerva shot Poppy a sidelong look.

"You brought the medical bat?"

Poppy pulled the blunt implement out from her magically enlarged pocket and shrugged with a smile. "Just call it insurance, Minnie."

"You were going to _hit_ him over the _head_?"

"Only if things didn't work out," Poppy said. She shrugged. "It's called having a Plan B, Minnie."

Minerva stared at her, before shaking her head. "You don't have any shame, do you?"

"Tell me you don't love it," Poppy said with a smirk.

* * *

"Harry? Harry... Harryyyy..."

"Mmph," Harry mumbled in his sleep. He tightened his arm around Hermione's waist and buried his face in her hair. He heard her sigh softly and smiled.

"Harry...!"

_Wait... that's not Hermione's voice,_ he thought. He clumsily groped for his glasses on the bedside table, and pulled them on. His eyes opened slowly as an unfamiliar woman's face was now above him.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said cheerfully.

"Oh... Hi Tonks... How did you get in?" Harry asked sleepily. Tonks grinned.

"I'm an Auror, Harry. I know many things." She shrugged. "So! Ready to go see that aunt of mine?"

"Five more minutes," Hermione mumbled sleepily as she nuzzled Harry's neck. Tonks smirked, and smacked Hermione's bottom. The curly-haired witch "eeped", and jumped up. She hissed in pain and glared at Tonks with a look of pure death.

"Don't DO that!"

"Why not?" TOnks asked with a saucy smile. "Are you a bit... Sore back there?"

Hermione's entire face turned bright red. She got even redder when Tonks held up a paddle. Harry's face burned the same color.

"I didn't know you had it in you Harry," she said cheerfully. "Anyway! I'm here to escort you to the will reading."

"The will reading?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded.

"Right. The will reading of Lucius Malfoy. He's dead," Harry said.

"Well, I assumed as much. You don't read the will of a living man," Hermione said. She stretched. "Give us a half-hour, we'll be ready then."

"Huh? You're going?" Harry asked. Hermione huffed.

"Of course I'm going! You'd be lost without me, remember?"

Harry chuckled. "Can't argue with that..." He looked at Tonks. "Who else is invited?"

"The Weasley Family, for one," Tonks said. Harry blinked.

"Isn't that kind of weird?"

"No weirder than you being invited," Hermione pointed out as she wrapped herself in a towel. "Come on Harry, shower. We've only got thirty minutes."

"Yes dear," Tonks said in Harry's voice. Hermione's face flushed again, as did Harry's. Tonks gave the latter a contemplative look as the former rushed out, holding up a Muggle Repelling Sticky Note on her way to the bathroom.

Harry stared back. "What?"

"Well... I'm just thinking about all the lovely ladies you're leaving here," Tonks said with a grin. Harry coughed.

"Well... Um... I'm sure they can get along without me for a day."

"Make the resource scarcer! Good plan! That'll just make them want you more," Tonk said cheerfully. "Worked for Power Rangers!"

"What?"

"Nevermind..."

* * *

Diana took several deep breaths as she stood in front of the Sergeant's office. She'd been doing so for the past ten minutes. It still hadn't steeled her nerves enough for this.

_It's not like I'm telling him I'm sleeping with an underaged boy and he got me pregnant... Just that I am,_ she affirmed to herself. _Pregnant that is. That's all._

She nodded to herself, and took hold of the handle. She turned it and entered. She cleared her throat.

"Sergeant..."

"Ah, hello Diana! Come in! I've got a case for you," the Sergeant said. "Seems there's been a rash of faulty merchandise. Very peculiar."

"Well, sir, here's the thing-" Diana tried, but the Sergeant plowed on.

"Looks like about ninety percent of the most recent stocks of various medical supplies have been faulty. Strangest damn thing. Hardest hit have been pregnancy tests." He looked up. "Did you know, five different brands have all been showing 'pregnant' regardless of the woman's actual state? It's bloody maddening!"

Diana stared, her eyes growing very large. "Ex-Excuse me?"

"Yes, I expect there will be a lot of panicked women out there," the Sergeant mused. "Will you see to the Call Center and make sure they're all apprised of the situation?"

Diana nodded, a big smile emerging on her face. "Yes sir! Of course sir! Thank you sir!" She headed out quickly, leaving the Sergeant to stare after her.

"... Huh..." He put it together and chuckled. "Well, least I made her day... Though I still wonder how that happened..."

* * *

"I'm telling you Goyle, this will be a laugh," Crabbe said as he cast another "False Positive" spell on another crate of supplies. Goyle frowned.

"How so Crabbe?"

"Why, it's elementary my dear Goyle," Crabbe said. "It will sow discord among the Muggles by virtue of their fears of becoming pregnant." He adjusted his monocle. "It shall be a very humorous diversion, what ho?"

"I feel it is positively juvenile," Goyle sniffed, taking a sip of tea out of his Bag of Holding. "There are better ways to entertain one's self."

"Mumsy is always encouraging us to get out more," mused Crabbe. "Given the antics of the Weasleys, I felt we could emulate them and find some fun."

"Ugh, those pillocks? Really Crabbe, we are both of far better taste than that," Goyle tutted with another sip. "I say, let us retire home to the smoking room, where we might commiserate upon the sad economic and political state of the Ministry."

"I don't think the figures on goblin interest will change even with that new formula you devised, old friend," Crabbe said as he finished his pranking.

"The night is still young," Goyle said with a smile.

* * *

_I know, I know, I promised the will reading next time. I have had little time to myself lately and little inspiration for this story until now, so please enjoy this small offering in preparation for the main course next time. And that, hopefully, will not take months to write._


	10. Chapter 10

That Boy is Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year..._

* * *

At Crabbe Manor, the fireplace turned emerald green, the sign of an active Floo, letting four people enter the manor's main study: George Goyle and his son, Gregory, as well as Virgil Crabbe and his son, Vincent.

"Well, that was one of the most positively dreadful funerals I have ever been forced to attend," Virgil started, setting his cloak on a nearby hook—the dress cloak, not the Death Eater kind.

"Indeed, my old friend," George offered, handing him the cloaks of him and the two teens. "Though I fear our presence was more to keep them from pilfering any items upon old Lucius's corpse than anything else."

"Oh, indubitably, dear chap," Virgil offered. "To think the poor citizens who attended could believe Narcissa would have put 'real' gold within that casket."

"Quite right," Virgil spoke. "Although now I do feel a distinct sadness for our children."

"Father?" queried Vincent.

"Well, it had been our hopes, all of ours, that dear Lucius would have 'kicked it up a notch', as the Muggles say, and actually trained young Draco up to par, my dear heir."

"Quite right," George offered. "Why, I remember like it was yesterday, when you two came through the Floo from an evening of tea at the young Malfoy's, disheartened by his 'flawless' plan to acquire a beneficial relationship with young Harry Potter."

"I still say our earlier preparations and thoughts would have produced better results," stated Gregory.

"Perhaps, my lone progeny," George stated. "But at some point, it may have occurred to someone that the young Malfoy heir was under some form of mind control."

"Well, doubtful at that school and any recent hires by Dumbledore, old bean."

"Quite true, Virgil," George capitulated. "But the recent return and then demise of young Crouch Jr. would have been a tipping point, and the mad fellow would have used such evidence as a means to attack those of us who had better things to do than rot in prison with the likes of the LeStranges."

"Alas, the only good thing that came from today's venue was that young Draco remained silent," Vincent offered with a pleasant smile. "Not once did he mention the word, 'Potter'."

"A marvelous time, indeed," Gregory stated with his own smile. "I do believe that was the quietest he has ever been in our presence."

"Not for long, I fear, for on the morrow, I have no doubt he will once again beset upon us with his more preposterous delusions of fancy," Vincent added sadly.

"Too true, dear children," Virgil offered. "But remember, it makes it easier to falsely set a trail of accusations against the young braggart, in case a patsy is needed for whatever reason."

"Not to mention the plausibility and denial such a figure creates for those who follow him," George offered. "Alas, we must now consider a new person for us to make such associations with, as the dear elder Malfoy has shucked the mortal coil."

"And ensure to know enough where they will pay for any legal issues that might crop up within the normal course of history," Virgil finished. After all, it hadn't been them that had made the bribes to the Ministry after the last war. Sure, some payments were made, but overall, the bill had been Lucius's.

"Although we may need to conceive of other options, now that dear Narcissa has let slip the old bean's book," George stated. "Former alliances may prove to be too costly, and it is highly unlikely that in the event that the Dark Lord's comeback may not follow the path intended."

"I would recommend the Americas, dear Father," Gregory offered. "I have been studying their financial interest systems for my current thesis over the Goblin interest rates. And if need be, I have heard that their political figures, both Magical and Muggle, tend to be the sort of cover we prefer."

"As astute as ever, Gregory," Vincent added. "As we discussed the other evening during the last financial reports, while currently less than stable, it does offer excellent potential, both to expand our wealth, while setting up an acceptable area where we might properly blend in with attracting less attention, should flight be necessary and the war turn tide against us."

The two fathers looked at each other for several seconds, before nodding.

"Well then my son, it appears we have developed another summer project to finish before you return to the educational institution that the local populace insists is the safest in all the world," George replied, slapping his son lightly on the back.

"Then tonight, we retire to the Drawing Room to consider what endeavors this plan will require, and detail our future operations."

No sooner had Virgil finished, the Floo lit up once again, allowing this time, the two mothers to exit. Pausing only to stare at the near blank expressions of the gathered males—before the Crabbe house elf entered with snacks and drew their attention, the women could only sigh before heading out, cursing their families for arranging marriages to such low-brow men, let alone being forced to bear children that sadly took more after their fathers.

As such, they missed the communication between the four through a series of various hand gestures, to confirm the time of their meeting.

A true Slytherin never revealed themselves to the world, let alone those closest to them, but their heirs.

* * *

Gringrotts was an angry marble bee hive of activity when Harry, Hermione, and Tonks arrived. Goblins were running about as wizards of every financial level demanded their money. It was a terse Griphook who greeted them at the entrance to a private meeting room, and hurried them into an adjacent meeting room. Within the golden room was a large coffee table of some kind of ivory, surrounded by large, comfortable looking chairs. The three took their seats as the goblin flexed his fingers quite rapidly.

"I'm terribly sorry, but considering all the shuffling about we've had to do you will have to wait here for the next hour," the goblin said in a high pitched, nasally voice. "Food and drink have been provided, if you need anything we will do our best to serve." The goblin turned and hurried out, and the doors shut tight behind him. Tonks smirked just a little.

"They're going nuts."

Harry glanced over at her and raised an eyebrow. Hermione followed suit.

"How could you tell?" Harry asked.

"See his hands?" Tonks leaned back in her chair.

"Hard not to," Harry commented.

"It's basic goblin body language. Their hands are, like ours, some of their most sensitive parts. When their hands are squeezing like that, they're trying to resist the urge to claw something to death," Tonks said.

"I don't blame them. All this panicked activity... Why?" Harry asked.

"More than likely, the reveal that Fudge tried to kill you and was being bribed by Malfoy has led people to conclude that any institution with firm ties to the government is not to be trusted. Hence the panic," Hermione explained.

"Ah," Harry said, nodding. Not being one to worry about the effects of total economic chaos upon the world, Harry leaned back in his chair and turned his mind to more pressing problems.

"So, what's Mrs. Malfoy's deal? What does she want with me?"

"We think she wants stronger ties to the Headmaster," Tonks said. "Given Uncle Lucius just died, she probably wants protection."

"So she invites me to the will, but not Dumbledore?" Harry asked, a bit incredulously. "Why?"

Hermione frowned. "If she wants protection from You-Know-Who, it's pretty stupid. I mean, she's soliciting Harry's help. That'd be like the Master asking the Doctor to come over to 'talk' while he was in the middle of negotiations with the Daleks to destroy the Doctor."

"NE-GOTI-ATE, NE-GOTI-ATE," Tonks said in a high pitched, staccato voice. Both women laughed, then slowly stopped before they noticed Harry's befuddlement.

"... Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I'm sorry... Doctor? Master? Daleks?"

Tonks felt her jaw lowering. "Doctor Who, Harry..."

"I'm sorry, Doctor What?" Harry said, looking genuinely confused. Tonks slowly looked at Hermione, while Hermione looked at Tonks. They shared equal looks of horror.

As one, they hugged Harry from both sides.

"Oh Merlin Harry you poor thing!"

"Those bloody Dursleys... I had no idea it was so bad!"

Harry blinked for a few moments, before slowly nodding.

"Yes... Yes, it's terrible, not knowing what it is you're talking about."

"Don't worry! I've got the whole couple of series back home on DVD, we can watch through them all," Hermione assured him.

"All of them?" Tonks asked in disbelief. "Why don't you just Netflix it?"

"My dad is old fashioned about the Internet," Hermione said.

"I'm sorry, what?" Harry asked flatly. Both of the women shook their heads.

"He is seriously deprived," Tonks sighed. She reached up and stroked Harry's cheek while her other hand slipped down into his pants.

"Ah-Ah?" Harry gasped.

"And so am I~," She purred. Hermione gasped at the scandal and grabbed her wrist.

"Wh-What do you think you're doing?" Hermione demanded.

"We've got an hour before they need us, and I've always wanted to do it in Gringrotts because it's incredibly hot," Tonks said cheerfully. She gave Hermione a smoldering look. "You can join us if you'd like~."

"I-You-It-!" Hermione stuttered. "You are absolutely depraved!"

"Turns you on too, hm?" Tonks asked with a grin. Hermione growled.

"Absolutely not!"

"What about the Veela?"

"WHAT? HOW DID YOU-I mean-I didn't-!"

"Er... Tonks, Hermione," Harry interjected. "Would you make up your minds whether to shag me or rip my willy off?" He was sweating nervously. "Quickly?"

Tonks and Hermione looked at each other. Still wearing a scowl, Hermione slowly nodded.

"Fine," Hermione huffed. "But it can't possibly be as hot as you make it out to be!"

"Only one way to find out~..."

* * *

In another waiting room inside Gringrotts, there was a distinct lack of tawdry sex. Just as well-McGonnagal was hardly a prim and proper prude but really, Sirius and Remus had been her students, Moody only had an eye for Neville's grandmother, and Hestia and Emmeline were not her type.

Pomphrey maybe, but that was a long time ago and she'd been drunk enough to be legally dead if she wasn't Scottish.

"So do you think Professor Snape would look decent if he washed his hair?" Hestia asked into the awkward silence of the room. Emmeline hummed thoughtfully.

"Possibly..."

"He does, though not as much as you might expect," McGonnagal said. She shrugged. "Though when he first started working as a teacher he did get quite the following one day after being dunked into the lake."

"Why do you ask? Fancy him, do you?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, it's just that he's very... Dramatic," Hestia said with a little blush. "It's kind of sexy."

Sirius twitched. "But... But Hestia! Everyone knows I'm the sexy dramatic one!"

"No, you're the sexy crazy fun one," Hestia corrected. "Remus is the sexy quiet one. Snape is the sexy evil teammate one."

Emmeline nodded. "Really Sirius, why can't you get this straight?"

"Probably due to the reality altering nature of that last statement. Snape. Sexy. Does not compute," Sirius said with a shudder.

Remus rolled his eyes. "As unpleasant as his personality is, to be fair the whole dark, brooding thing is attractive."

"From personal experience?" Emmeline asked with raised eyebrows.

Remus leaned back in his chair and smiled a bit. "Well... If it works..."

"Can you lot please stop acting like a bunch of overgrown teenagers?" Moody harrumphed. McGonnagal shook her head with a slight smile.

"Come now Alastor. This is the first bit of good luck in the war we've had since... Ever. Show a little enthusiasm, won't you?"

"This is my enthusiastic face," Moody said with a twisted grin. The far door opened, and a goblin entered with a sour look upon his face.

"Presenting Narcissa Black and Aurora Sinistra," he said without an ounce of enthusiasm, and he apparated out with a pop. Narcissa and Aurora entered, causing McGonnagal to raise her brows, Remus to blink, Hestia and Emmeline to gasp, Moody to sit up a bit straighter and Sirius... To grin.

"Cissie!" He said with a cheerful expression. Narcissa scowled.

"Sirius..."

"What? I'm not allowed to use the nickname for my favorite cousin?" Sirius asked. "Well, second favorite but you're in the running now!"

"Lucky me," Narcissa said dryly.

"Aurora? What are you doing here?" McGonnagal asked.

"Well, Narcissa and I were discussing business at the time and I decided to accompany her," she said. "After all... We're all on the same side now, right?"

McGonnagal nodded, conceding the point warily.

"Yer not a member o' the Order, lassie," Moody said with a low growl. Aurora shrugged and sat down easily on one of the couches, crossing her leg up over her knee.

"No, but considering you let Snape in, I don't think the requirements are very strict," the astronomer said coolly.

"She's got a point," Sirius pointed out.

Aurora nodded politely to the others. "Sirius, Remus, been a long time."

"Yes it has," Remus said with a smile. "Hello again Aurora."

Narcissa took her seat, imperious as a queen, and crossed her legs in a similarly provocative manner. She looked across the table and smiled.

"I'll get right to the point. As you may have noticed, my husband's assets and various titles and powers are now mine," she opened the conversation. "As I do not wish to become the chattel of that detestable half-blood, I have come before you to, essentially, defect."

"We gathered," Moody said in a low growl.

"And I'm quite willing to prove this with support, in exchange for your protection and a few... Sundries," Narcissa said. McGonnagal nodded slowly.

"We're aware of those... Sundries," McGonnagal said. "And we're quite prepared to assist you in getting on with those requirements."

"I have a number of allies with similar requirements," Narcissa returned smoothly. "The fulfillment of which would doubtlessly make our support far more... Genuine."

"Well, you're in luck then," Sirius took over. "We have said requirement filler in another room right here."

Narcissa stared at Sirirus. Sirius stared back. Narcissa smiled and very slowly nodded.

"I see... Perhaps then, an advance would be in order? As a gesture of good faith?"

"My thoughts exactly," Sirius said. He looked over at Aurora. "Though surely Aurora is in a similar situation?"

"I'm quite willing to wait my turn," Aurora said. "After all, the school year is coming up."

"Please be aware that such... Requirement fulfilling may be against school regulations, to which you are beholden," McGonnagal calmly reminded Aurora. Aurora smiled brightly.

"I am, and I can ensure such... Filling will be done in a purely non-professional manner with no bearing on performance."

McGonnagal very slowly nodded as Aurora's smile grew just a bit. "Keep it that way." She looked to Sirius. "I think we can commence with the will reading."

"Good," Sirius said. He rose up, walked to the door and knocked on it three times. A goblin opened it up, looking annoyed.

"Yes?"

"We're ready," Sirius said.

The goblin grumbled and walked into the room to the main table. Everyone rose and walked into the room, Sirius and Narcissa the last. Sirius looked intently at his cousin, and she looked back.

"You're really all right with this?" She asked.

"Cousin, if it makes you happy, and Harry happy, then yes I am," Sirius said.

"And it's not just because you want your godson to make it with me?" She asked, amused.

"Well... I didn't say that," Sirius said. "So! When will Draco find out?"

"My good little dragon is so sensitive... I think I'll tell him when I have a new little sister for him," Narcissa purred. Sirius blinked. Narcissa just smirked. Sirius sighed, shook his head, and held out his hand.

"Ladies and cougars first."

"Thank you..."

* * *

"Excuse me, humans. If you would cease your fornication for just a moment, your party is ready to see you," a goblin stated flatly. He then turned and left the room. There was a moment's pause, before the sounds of three people dressing quickly was heard.

Out into the hallway stumbled Harry, Hermione and Tonks, their clothing disheveled and in disarray. Hermione was blushing wildly, as was Harry.

"Oh my God," Hermione mumbled, holding her cheeks. "Oh my God... Oh my God..."

"Yeah," Harry said with a smile. He then looked over at Tonk, and frowned at her look of disappointment.

"Tonks? Something wrong?"

"Mm?" Tonks asked. "No, not really..."

"Did... Did I do anything wrong?" Harry asked gingerly. Tonks stared at him for a moment, then laughed.

"Ha! Hahaha! No no Harry, you were fine... More than fine... I'd give you an 'O' for 'Outstanding', among... Other things..." She grinned and laughed at Harry's resulting blush. "But, the truth is..."

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"Well..." Tonks pouted. "There's no thrill in getting caught if the one catching you doesn't care, you know?"

"You're an exhibitionist!" Hermione gasped. Tonks shook her head.

"No, no... Well yes, a bit, but if there's no consequence for being caught then there's no rush of fear! And fear is heavily linked to erotic response," Tonks said.

"So... It was good?" Harry asked. Tonks laughed again, and hugged him tightly. She kissed the top of his head.

"You're cute, you know that?"

"So I've been told... Repeatedly," Harry mumbled into her boobs with a smile.

Hermione sighed, and yanked Harry out of Tonks' cleavage. "Come on, come on... We've got work to do, Harry. We can experiment with the fear response later."

"We can?" Harry asked eagerly. Hermione flushed.

"Yes, but only under circumstances I dictate."

"Aren't you the control freak?" Tonks commented with a little smile. Hermione huffed.

"We need to do this scientifically... After all," and here she shot Harry a sharp look, "I don't think it'll be the same for everyone who catches us. After all, there is a difference between thrill... And mortification."

"Example?" Harry asked.

"Well, which is more thrilling? Being caught by, say, Tonks... Or Filch."

A shudder ran up Harry's spine, and he gulped. "I see your point."

"Showing more foresight than I did," Tonks mumbled, giving off a shudder of her own. "Anyway, let's be off!"

They walked down the hallway, where the goblin was impatiently waiting. He opened the doors and ushered them in with a very wide, sharp and shiny grin. It did the opposite of a normal smile-That is, making Harry want to grab his wand and blast the goblin's face off.

He turned his attention back onto the room... And was surprised.

"Sirius? Professor Lupin? Professor McGonnagal? Professor Moody? Uh..."

"Emmeline and Hestia," the round faced witch introduced herself and her friend. "We're part of Dumbledore's..."

"Country Club," Moody harrumphed.

"Country Club?" Harry asked.

Moody's blue fake eye pointed across the room. Harry followed it.

"Well? Aren't you going to greet me, Mr. Potter, or are manners still a foreign concept to you?" Narcissa Malfoy... Black stated. Her tone was slightly imperious, but there was a little smile on her face and a warmth in her eyes that had been absent the last time he'd seen her. She was also wearing a dress that outlined her very fit, very curvy body in such a way Harry had to wrench his eyes away to keep himself from drooling. To her right was Aurora Sinistra, looking as prim and dignified as ever.

"Ah... Hello, Ms. Black, Professor Sinistra," Harry said with a polite nod of his head. Narcissa rose and walked around the conference table. She extended her hand to Harry, who stared blankly at it.

"Take it and kiss it," Sirius mouthed, just out of the former Mrs. Malfoy's sight. Harry nodded, took her hand, and kissed her palm. Narcissa started, but pulled her hand back slowly with a small smirk.

"Good initiative... Wrong side," Narcissa said. "We'll have to work on that."

"We?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow. Narcissa just smiled, and returned to her seat. Harry moved to sit in the nearest empty chair, but Sirius discretely waved him off. He gestured over to the seat next to Narcissa. Frowning a bit, Harry shrugged mentally and headed over, sitting down. Narcissa didn't look his way, her attention entirely on the center of the table. Hermione and Tonks took seats further away from Harry, which the former didn't look particularly happy about and the latter looked positively homicidal over.

At last, a goblin came through the doors, and snapped his long fingers. He appeared on the table before them, and pulled on a pair of reading glasses. Another snap of his fingers, and a sheath of parchments apparated into his grasp. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud from the parchment in a very bored tone.

"I, Lucius Malfoy, Lord of Malfoy Manor, Chairman of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, Master of the Estate of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and Four Time Winner of the David Bowie Lookalike contest-"

Hermione bit back a laugh, while Tonks snorted. Sirius just grinned across the table, while McGonnagal and Remus smiled serenely. Harry couldn't help a little smile, which grew when he saw Narcissa flash one for a moment herself.

His smile vanished though, when he felt someone's hand rest upon his thigh and squeeze. Harry started, and looked back at Narcissa. The blonde woman didn't look back, all her attention on the goblin.

"...being of sound mind and body hereby declare the following to take place in the event of my death. One. Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, my beloved wife, shall be the executor of my estate and all it's holdings until such time as she remarries, in which case she may choose to share the estate ownership with her new spouse or remain in total control, or until such time as Draco Malfoy, my son, comes of age and proves himself a worthy heir to the estate and legacy of the Malfoy and Black families."

The goblin turned the page. Harry's face turned red as Narcissa's hand... Wandered. Hermione saw this, and mouthed "What?" to him across the table. Harry stared back, working his jaw. He gestured with his head, very slightly to Narcissa... Which got him a hard squeeze that made him gasp.

"I hereby leave Harry Potter, vanquisher of the Moste Terrible Lord Voldemort, five thousand Galleons to provide for his general well being given it is he who freed me from the service of the Moste Dread Dark Lord Voldemort, aka Tom Marvolo Riddle who currently owns two thousand, five hundred galleons plus interest for overdue student loan payments for attendance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she looked at Narcissa in some disbelief. Narcissa just smiled very faintly, her eyes on the goblin. Harry's own eyes soon crossed, even as the goblin's drone filled the room.

"To Lord Voldemort, aka Tom Marvolo Riddle, I leave these bills for substantial donations made to your campaign of political/sociological realignment via violent means on the order of ten thousand galleons. Checks will not be accepted, but various other means of legally accepted tender or barter will be..." the goblin continued.

Harry shut his mouth tightly, and gripped the edge of the table. He tried very, very hard not to look at anyone, but the thought of being caught as Tonks had said filled his mind and with his two lovers right here and everyone probably able to tell just what was going on at a glance...!

"To my dear son Draco... I leave you with a list of various instructors whom my father sent me to in order to learn useful things. It is my hope you will embrace their teachings and choose your own way in life, rather than continuing to be a burden to your poor mother. In the words of the great Muggle Lord Clint Eastwood, 'Man up you little bitch.'" The goblin rolled up the parchment, just as Harry had a coughing fit.

"Your will is read, have a nice day." The goblin then promptly apparated out with a crack!, leaving the wizards and witches alone.

"... That sounded absolutely nothing like the Lucius I knew," McGonnagal stated at last.

"He was a very private man," Narcissa said smoothly. "Of hidden depths and tolerances."

"But not to poison, I presume?" Moody harrumphed.

"I'm afraid so," Narcissa said, wiping an imaginary tear with the hand not under the table. "Shame really."

"I've gotta say, I found that entire thing very entertaining," Sirius said.

"It's not that funny," Remus said airily, as Harry softly panted.

"It was, it was... Especially the ending," Sirius said.

"Yes, quite the little eruption," Moody harrumphed. "You all right there, Potter?"

"Y-Yes... Just fine," Harry said.

"You seem a bit... Overcome," McGonnagal said dryly. Harry shook his head.

"Nonono! I'm good! I'm good!"

"You certainly look like it," Hermione growled. Tonks just looked back and forth between Narcissa and Harry, her eyes bugged out and her hair bright green.

"Now that that is done... Mr. Potter, I would like to negotiate with you alone," Narcissa said.

"What?" Hermione gasped.

"Those are the terms of my sharing this will with you," Narcissa said calmly. "To negotiate with you regarding certain aspects of our conflict with the Dark Lord."

"Ah..." Harry looked at his angry girlfriend, and then back at Sirius, McGonnagal, Moody and Remus. Sirius nodded encouragingly, McGonnagal shrugged, Moody snorted with a leer and Remus chuckled.

"Trust me Harry... It will definitely help out the whole process," Sirius said. "And she did swear a Wizard's Oath that you would come to no harm."

"She did?" Harry asked. Narcissa nodded, continuing to smile faintly.

"Of course. I have absolutely no reason to harm you, Mr. Potter... Unless you invite such an action," she drawled in such a way Harry blushed to the roots of his hair.

"I think I should at least be present for this!" Hermione said.

"Are you saying you don't trust me, Miss Granger?" Narcissa asked. Hermione scowled.

"As a matter of fact-"

"Hermione, Hermione, hang on," Sirius said. He got up and walked over to Hermione. He bent down and whispered something in her ear. Her expression changed from livid, to contemplative, and finally to grim acceptance.

"All right... However, Harry did declare me his official adviser," she stated. "That's bound by magic too. If at any point he requests my..." And here she couldn't help her blush, "counsel, I will be there immediately. And I will be there with the full, necessary authority."

"... But of course," Narcissa said with a slow, catlike smile. "It is a pleasure to meet a girl so... Spirited."

The smoky look the Malfoy matriarch shot Hermione got the Muggleborn to blush, and Harry's mind to immediately go to some happy places. Narcissa rose, discretely hiding her hand behind a handbag.

"The goblins have provided us with a private meeting room... The negotiations may go on for some time, so by all means, those who wish to stay can stay. Otherwise..." And here she smirked a little. "You should probably go. There isn't going to be much of a show."

"Not this time," Tonks mumbled. This got a look from McGonnagal, to which the Metamophmagus could only shrug sheepishly. Another door opened up, and another goblin with an unpleasant smile stood there.

"Your room, Lady Black and Mr. Potter," he said flatly. Narcissa nodded, and calmly strode into it. Harry's eyes were drawn to her arse, moving back and forth hypnotically, before he recalled he needed to follow her. Getting up, he walked in after her. The doors shut, leaving the wizards in the room alone once more.

"... Just so we're clear, and I'm not imagining anything... Harry is basically being pimped out to Narcissa to get her on our side?" Tonks asked. Several sets of eyes were locked onto her, and she grinned and shrugged.

"Just in case I'd gone insane or something..."

"Yes," Hermione groused.

"Yes," Sirius cheered.

"Why are you so happy about this, Sirius?" Hermione demanded.

"The same reason you're going to be happy about it," Sirius said cheerfully. He passed her a note, which Hermione picked up and read.

"... As adviser to Harry Potter I am entitled to a twenty-five percent share of all transactions?" Hermione gasped. "You... Do you really think I'd pimp out Harry for-for money?"

"Think of all the books that could buy," Sirius said. "All of those wonderful books... And book shelves, too."

Hermione ceased her rant, and stared. She looked back at the paper, biting her lower lip.

"... Well... Um..."

"And just imagine how many other transactions will probably be made," Sinistra said with a smile.

"She's probably got one lined up for herself right now," Moody snorted. Emmeline and Hestia giggled as the normally strait-laced teacher blushed.

"Professor!" Hermione gasped, scandalized.

"What? It won't affect his grades, I assure you," Sinistra said.

"Well, I suppose that would be fine-WHAT? NO!"

"Ms. Granger," McGonnagal said, resting a hand on Hermione's shoulder. Hermione looked up to her role model, her idol, with hopeful eyes.

"Yes?"

"Please keep in mind that this is the first time we've ever had anything go our way in this war since Mr. Potter defeated Lord Voldemort the first time," McGonnagal said, "and frankly, we need to keep up the momentum." She gave Hermione a firm look. "And if it takes Harry shagging every lonely housewitch in Britain to win, well... Frankly, you've got to make a choice."

"Indeed," Sirius said, resting his hands on Hermione's shoulders.

"But er... Isn't prostitution illegal?" Hermione asked, grasping at straws.

"Illegal?" McGonnagal asked, surprised.

"If you call it prostitution, sure!" Sirius said. "I prefer to think of it as..."

"Getting my godson laid with a bevy of beautiful women?" Remus asked dryly.

"... Actually I call it 'getting my godson laid with a shitload of beautiful women,'" Sirius said. "But now that I think about it, that's probably not the best way to describe it..."

"What was your first guess?" Hermione asked dryly.

* * *

The room they arrived in was... Tacky. That was pretty much the only word for it. It was absolutely bathed in gold, from the ceiling to the knobs on the drawers to the bed itself, which was vast and nestled between gigantic carved dragons with glowing rubies for eyes and foot-long diamonds for teeth. Above the bed was a great mirror that currently displayed a night time sky.

"Is this satisfactory?" The goblin asked in a very bored tone.

"Hmmm..." Narcissa scanned it with narrowed eyes. "Really? This is the meeting room?"

"Well, we do like to keep up with our customers'... Preferences," the goblin said, eying Harry significantly. Harry coughed and tugged at his collar.

"And you think my preferences run to such... Debauchery?" Narcissa asked flatly.

"Well... Given the Malfoy family's preferences over the years," the goblin began, "we felt it best to tone it down a notch for you though."

"How so?" Narcissa asked.

"You will not be provided with complimentary hookers in the wine fountain," the goblin said with a grin. Narcissa sighed.

"I suppose that's only to be expected... Would you kindly leave us here?"

"Of course, madam," the goblin simpered. He headed out, giving Harry a bland expression before shutting the diamond encrusted doors behind him. Narcissa sighed.

"Well... This is not the proper place to conduct negotiations." She turned to Harry. "Squeeze my breasts."

"Pardon?" Harry asked. Narcissa sighed.

"Come on Potter, you can follow a simple instruction right?"

Recognizing her tone (One he had become very familiar with over the past few weeks), Harry reached up and grasped her breasts. His eyes widened as he felt the familiar tug of a portkey at his navel, and the world spun around wildly before settling back and reforming. Harry looked around.

"Hogwarts?" Harry asked. The room resembled one of several classrooms he'd been in, and he could tell the style of desk, chalkboard, and magical candles anywhere. The dressing screen and large comfy bed next to the desk were new though.

"Part of it," Narcissa said with a hum. "There are hundreds of ancient, unused classrooms beneath Hogwarts proper... I myself used these for... Certain activities."

"If Voldemort found out-"

"He's not going to find out," Narcissa soothed. "Consider this a down payment of trust by letting you in on this."

"Ah," Harry said. "Well... Thank you."

She bit her lower lip and hummed, before reluctantly pulling his hands away from her bosom.

"Something wrong?" Harry asked.

"No, but I need you to let go. Otherwise you'll activate the Portkey again," she said.

"... Oh," Harry said, feeling a bit embarassed. Narcissa's smile became positively smoky, and she turned to go behind the screen.

"Just give me a moment, Harry," she said. Harry blinked.

"Ah... Sure? But what f..." He trailed off as her dress was thrown over the top of the screen. He remained silent as he heard her dress, then the sound of her gulping something down.

"I had hoped to use this a bit later, once our... Relationship had advanced to a certain stage," Narcissa said, her smoky voice growing just a bit more higher pitched but still remaining sexy. "But seeing the lack of decorum by the goblins, I think you'll agree a little... Escalation is in order."

Narcissa came out from behind the screen... Considerably shorter than when she'd gone behind it. She looked about his age if a little younger, and was wearing a Hogwarts Slytherin school uniform that was just a bit too tight.

"Uh... A youth potion?" He asked.

"Yes... Nothing on the Eternal Youth Elixir, of course. This one is merely temporary." She smiled seductively and walked up to him. "But I think it will last long enough for our... Negotiations to be complete?" She handed her tie to him, and nuzzled his cheek.

"Don't you think... Mr. Potter?"

Harry very slowly nodded.

"Of course... Ms. Black."

"Please," she said, as she shoved him back onto the desk and straddled him, "call me Cissie." She smirked. "Or God, that works too~."

Needless to say, the negotiations were far more interesting than Harry had thought they'd be.

* * *

_God, why will this story not just END? It's like a zombie! HOW DO YOU KILL A STORY THAT'S ALREADY DEAD?_

_Remember, always save the last bullet for yourself..._


	11. Chapter 11

**That Boy is Trouble**

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Time Warner own Harry Potter, I don't. Please don't sue.

_Set during the summer before Fifth Year..._

* * *

Given Harry's stamina, it would not be a surprise if he had his way with Narcissa (and she with him) for several hours. With this in mind, Minerva, Poppy, and Aurora returned to Hogwarts Castle through the Floo, to report a successful mission to Dumbledore in his office.

"Wonderful news, wonderful," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I am gratified to hear that things are happening in our favor."

"Yes! It's an unusual feeling, Albus, and I dearly hope I will get used to it," Minerva said primly.

"And what of Harry? How is he?" Dumbledore asked.

"Very well off, Headmaster," reported Poppy with a smile. "He and Mrs. Mal... Ms. Black have hit it off. Miss Granger is seeing to many of the details."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair. "I must admit, Minerva, I had some... Reservations but you have handled this situation as well as you've handled the school in my absence."

Pomphrey and Aurora managed to repress smirks. Minerva managed to resist the urge to hex them into next week as she kept a pleasant smile on her lips.

"Thank you Albus."

"Though I do have one question," Dumbledore said, raising a finger as he stood up. Minerva tried to keep her body language neutral, while Aurora stiffened and Pomphrey eyed the ceiling.

"Yes?"

"The Weasleys were invited to the will reading, were they not?" Dumbledore asked, pacing to the fireplace. That particular memory shot right to the front of Minerva's mind, and her eyes widened.

"Yes... And they didn't show," Minerva said.

"Very unusual," Dumbledore pointed out unnecessarily. "Shall we?" He asked as he threw some floo into the fireplace.

Minerva nodded. "Of course."

"Poppy, Aurora, would you come as well?" Albus asked. The two younger women nodded, and all four stepped into the fireplace, one after the other with the words "The Burrow" on their lips.

When they arrived... It seemed they'd fallen into a madhouse.

Mrs. Weasley was at the kitchen door, beating several grasping hands with a rolling pin. Fred and George were throwing pots and pans out the windows, Percy was breaking a chair down into pieces and adding them to a pile of debris his father was chucking out the window, Ginny was frantically flipping through a book that seemed to be made of human skin, and Ron was nowhere to be seen.

"Dumbledore! Thank Merlin!" Cried Molly, as loud, horrible moaning seemed to fill the house from all sides. "We've got a zombie siege on our hands!"

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said. "Haven't you tried magic?"

"We did! But the spell Ginny here cast that brought them up rendered them essentially immune to it!" Arthur said, scowling back at Ginny. The redheaded girl gulped and kept flipping through the book.

"I didn't know this would happen! The spell seemed totally harmless!"

"It raises the dead as _flesh eating zombies_, how could that _possibly be harmless?"_ Percy shrieked at her. Ginny, disgusted, shoved the book in Percy's hands and picked up a chair leg.

"Fine, Mr. Smarty Pants! You look for the counter spell, I'll go be useful!" Ginny ran to a window where a zombie was forcing it's arm through. She smashed it over the head with the chair leg, and kicked him in the face. "TAKE THAT!"

Minerva and Poppy just looked at each other, and sighed. Aurora cleared her throat.

"Um... Question. Where is Ronald?"

"We sent him out in the car to get help!" Cried Molly. "Oh my poor baby, where could he be?"

The answer to that question came in the form of the roar of an engine. Minerva ran to one of the windows that didn't have a zombie blocking it, and spied the infamous Ford Anglia charging through the hordes of undead, flattening them or kicking them up over the roof. The car eventually crashed through the front door, depositing a still twitching zombie on the kitchen floor. Molly gaped, as Ron kicked open the door and came out with a grin.

"Hey everyone! Sorry I'm a little late. Didja know that in Muggle money gold is really-"

"Ronald Billius Weasley! Show some respect to our guests!" Molly shouted.

"It is a bit rude, son," Arthur contributed. Ron stared at Dumbledore, Minerva, Poppy and Aurora in bewilderment, and stammered out a greeting.

"Uh, h-h-hello Professors. Welcome to our home... Bit of a nuthouse, isn't it?"

"That would be putting it lightly, Mr. Weasley," Minerva said wryly.

"DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO HELP OR NOT?" Ginny shrieked.

"Oh! Right!" Ron said. He looked to the passenger seat of the car. "Luna?"

A slim, graceful looking girl slid out of the car, holding up a Muggle shotgun. "Right here, Ronald," she said, handing the weapon over to Ron. Ron nodded and grinned, turning and taking aim with the weapon as a zombie squeezed into the house.

"Watch! It's just point, click-" _BOOM!_ The zombie's head vanished in a blast of blood, bone and brain matter. It slumped over. George and Fred watched this in awe, and then grinned simultaneously.

"Got any more?" They asked.

"Several!" Ron enthused. "Luna was just looking through the local gun store for a story!"

"I wished to know if Muggle guns were really forged by dwarves as a means of maintaining the balance of power with the goblins," Luna said calmly. She pointed a handgun behind herself and fired several times, bringing down another zombie. "My research is a bit inconclusive, but Ronald is very willing to assist me in further investigation."

"Ronald Billius Weasley! You're saying you went and bought a load of Muggle guns to fight off zombies with?" Molly demanded. Ron blinked.

"Well... Yeah?"

"Good boy!" Molly said cheerfully, taking a shotgun herself and pointing it in the face of another undead monstrosity. "I was a little concerned about you, but here you are, bringing home guns and a car and a girl all on the same day!"

_BOOM!_

"Oh bother, it's very messy," Molly said while making a face.

"I'm very proud of you, son," Arthur said with a smile, patting him on the shoulder. Ron grinned back.

"Thanks Dad!"

"WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE _HELP ME?_" Ginny screamed, as a zombie tried to yank her out of the house by her hair. Luna rushed over and slashed the monster's arm off with a machete.

"Oh... Wow... Thanks Luna," Ginny panted.

"You're welcome," Luna said with a smile.

"How can I repay you?" She asked eagerly. Luna hummed, and her smile widened as she handed Ginny the machete.

"You can join my harem. Ron's already going to be in it, as are the Twins but I thought I'd ask you first since we're best friends."

"Hahaha, sure Luna, anything you say!" Ginny laughed, patting her friend on the back. "Now, let's go kick some arse!"

"Wonderful," Luna said. "This will make things much easier."

"Language, Ginny!" Molly called, pumping lead into multiple zombies.

"Sorry Mum!" Ginny called back.

"Ah... Do you require any assistance?" Dumbledore asked, very confused.

"I think we'll be fine as soon as Percy deciphers the counter-spell!" Arthur called back, as the Ford Anglia pulled out of the kitchen and drove around, running over zombies. "Percy! How are you doing on that?"

"I think I can figure it out soon enough," Percy said.

Dumbledore pointed over Percy's shoulder at the necessary spell. The officious Weasley youth smiled gratefully up at him.

"Oh, thank you Professor! Yes! I've got it, it'll just take a few minutes to cast!"

"Then I guess we take this outside!" Arthur said, as Ron quickly explained how to load the gun with more ammo. "Good! All set? All right! TALLY HO!" He cried, charging out the ruined kitchen door.

"WAIT FOR ME, ARTHUR!" Molly yelled, right behind her husband with a shotgun in one hand and her rolling pin in the other.

"FOR GRYFFINDOR!" Bellowed Ron, Fred, George and Ginny as they rushed out.

"FOR MY HAREM!" Luna cried, following close behind.

As the Weasley family threw itself wholeheartedly into eliminating the undead menace, the visitors to the Burrow stared in some bewilderment.

"... I need a drink," Minerva decided.

"Me too," Aurora said with a shake of her head.

"Me three," Dumbledore admitted, much to the surprise of the others. Pomphrey sighed.

"Whiskey's in the hospital wing, and please? Leave me the bottle..."

* * *

Harry awoke slowly, blinking away sleep that stuck to his eyes. The world was a blur above him, but from the warm, feminine weight on top of him and the silk sheets against his back he deduced he was in a bed with a naked, unconscious woman on top of him.

Not an unexpected development, but a pleasant one all the same. He groped around for his glasses. When that didn't work, he groped for his wand and soon closed his fingers around the instrument in question.

_"Accio glasses_," he muttered, and a moment later his glasses shot into his hand. He pulled them on, and was granted the privilege of seeing a sleeping, drooling Narcissa Black on top of him, a peaceful smile on her face. He was right-She was very pretty looking without that scowl.

His stomach rumbled, and his bladder complained. Harry grimaced, and very slowly, reluctantly pulled away from her. She sighed in her sleep and cuddled up to a pillow instead, as Harry got out of the bed and examined his new surroundings.

He was in a cool, tastefully decorated bedroom with black curtains covering up tall windows, and a warm scarlet carpet decorating the floor. He found a robe lying on a chair, and pulled it on. He left, giving one last look at Narcissa before opening the door to search for a loo.

Where the heck am I? He thought, quite naturally. His last thought was of riding the former Mrs. Malfoy until she passed out in that classroom. He'd followed soon after, and frowned as the outside corridor gave him no more clues to where he was than before.

_Suits of armor, paintings, a gawping Draco, black curtains..._ Harry trailed off and looked at Draco. The Malfoy scion looked even paler than usual, and was staring at him in a mask of horror and disbelief.

Harry stared back, and the two stood there in silence for a while... Before Harry spoke.

"So... Does this mean I'm your new daddy?"

_Man, I never know what to say. Sure wish Hermione was here..._

Draco twitched, his hand reaching into his robes for his wand...

"_Stupefy_!" Cried a familiar female voice, and a flash of red later Draco was face down on the floor eating carpet. Hermione rushed up, wearing only a towel, giving Harry a scowl through her wet hair.

"Really Harry?"

"Well... It was the first thing to come to mind," Harry admitted sheepishly. "How did you get here?"

"Magical contract, I'd imagine," Hermione said. "You can summon me in cases of negotiations and so forth..."

"That sounds more than a little farfetched," Harry admitted.

"Harry, it's _magic_," Hermione emphasized. "Remember? And why exactly would I be showering in Malfoy Manor?"

"Without me? Haven't a clue," Harry admitted. Hermione flushed, and hit his shoulder with a little grin.

"Prat!"

"Yeah yeah," Harry said. "Anyway, um... About this whole contract thing-"

"Oh relax Harry," Hermione said with a smile. "I've taken care of everything, really."

"You-You have?" Harry asked, blinking rapidly.

"Of course! It's me, right?" Hermione scoffed. "Essentially as your legal counsel, any negotiations, contracts or business agreements you enter into involving Ms. Black have me as your advisor. I'm entitled to 25 percent of the profits and have final authority on many different... Er... Negotiations."

"That's... A lot of power you have over me," Harry said. He frowned suspiciously. "Hermione, exactly what kind of transactions are we talking about?"

Hermione looked to the side. "Er... Well..."

"Hermione," Harry said warningly. Hermione looked back, sighed, and opened up her towel. Harry stared.

"You don't want to ask me any more questions," Hermione said in a smooth, silky voice. "Except how hard I want to get shagged... These aren't the droids you're looking for..."

"I _have_ seen that movie, Hermione," Harry said flatly, though he didn't look away. Hermione pouted and closed her towel back up.

"Oh, _fine_... She's willing to give us information and assistance if you... Er..."

"Shag her rotten?" Harry asked, tilting his head. Hermione nodded, shrugging a bit.

"Yeah, pretty much... Among other things..."

"Are they sexy things?" Harry asked. Hermione stared at him with a wry smile.

"Well, considering how you two got along, what do you think?"

"I'm thinking this is looking better and better," Harry said with a broad grin. "Er... So... Miss Granger," he said, looking her up and down. "Would you care to enter into some... Aggressive negotiations?"

Hermione hummed thoughtfully, and then dropped the towel. She grinned at him.

"Of course, Mr. Potter... But only under my terms. To wit..." She flipped Draco over onto his side, and laid down in his line of vision with a grin.

"Shag me in front of Malfoy."

Harry blinked rapidly several times. "... Best girlfriend ever."

"Legal counsel too, don't forget," Hermione reminded him.

"That too," Harry said, as he pounced. Just before they got into the heavy business, however...

"Hermione?"

"Ahhh... Yes Harry?"

"Does this mean that every woman I have sex with will be part of these arrangements?"

"... Er... Don't think too hard about it, Harry."

"Hermione," Harry said warningly.

"For God's sake Harry, I'm a wet, horny and willing girl you love lying right in front of you who enjoys you shagging her in front of Draco Malfoy while he's helpless to do anything about it! What do you need, an _engraved invitation?"_

"So, less thinking, more shagging?"

"YES!"

"... When did we switch roles-"

"Stop asking questions and _do me!"_

"Yes ma'am!"

* * *

In the end, the repercussions of Harry's romps with the lonely neighbors were felt far and wide. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had a drinking contest with Tonks that ended with them all going on Top Gear in the year 2012. How this is possible is difficult to determine but clearly booze and Sirius's poor judgement were both involved. Sirius humped the Stig in dog form, Remus wore goggles and made an ass of himself, and Tonks nearly killed James May by glomping him.

Emmeline and Hestia went bowling with Moody, which ended in disaster when Moody substituted his Engorged eye for a ball. There were many survivors who wished they were otherwise. Emmeline and Hestia made bail but Moody failed to and had to be bailed out by Dumbledore much later.

Dumbledore would wake up in Magic France with a hangover and a prize for winning First Place at a local battle of the bands. Minerva and Poppy went streaking at the Holyhead Harpies Nude Quidditch Charity game, which they took in stride over the following school year and even accepted a few modeling opportunities. Aurora found herself in Colorado, waking up in the bed of some Yankee archaeology named Daniel Jackson, with whom she's tried to stay in contact.

Snape would recover from his tremendous psychological trauma, but would write several letters to the voice actresses of Misato Katsuragi. They were returned with a restraining order each and Snape's depression has only grown worse.

Hermione Granger became quite the "negotiator" for Harry's affairs, and also his business transactions.

The Weasleys all survived their encounter with the Deadite Uprising and were able to pay for the repairs to their house by selling the tale in the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. It became a hit in the Wizarding world but would become the basis for the revival of the Of the Dead film series so needless to say it was a mixed bag.

Ronald Weasley entered a Rally car race with Luna as his navigator and would successfully place first with his loyal little Ford Anglia, after getting lost a record two thousand times. He would cheerfully recount his exciting summer to Harry, his best friend, who was very happy that for once his summer had been relatively quiet.

Luna was not kidding about her Weasley harem.

Ginny was happy to learn being part of Luna's Harem did not mean she couldn't also have relations with Harry, though negotiations with Hermione were a tad heated. Not that anyone minded.

After much deliberation, compromise candidate Vermin Supreme was elected the new Minister of Magic in a landslide. Despite the fact he was later found to not be a Wizard at all despite his mad dress sense, but in fact a Muggle hobo, he was allowed to finish out his term after restoring prosperity and security, opening Britain to foreign investment, and starting a project to seek out the extradimensional pony kingdom of Equestria. So far, there has been no success.

The various women Harry was involved with over the summer continued to be involved with him until he left for Hogwarts yet again in the fall, where Hermione used her new position to manage many, many negotiations between Harry and members of the opposite sex in multiple houses for intelligence, support, and other kinds of trade. Pansy Parkinson in particular became a veritable gold mine of information and other helpful resources. Unfortunately, not all of them got faulty pregnancy tests... Though Harry would not learn about this until the following summer.

Draco Black, despite his rage, was forbidden from harming Harry by his mother. He dutifully and grudgingly obeyed, due to being an absolute mama's boy. His fainting spells would become a regular occurrence, especially when Narcissa smugly told him he would soon have a new baby sister.

Dolores Umbridge and Cornelius Fudge would find themselves in Azkaban, sharing a cell with the infamous Death Buggerers.

The Crabbes and Goyles would make out like bandits in the economic boom following Vermin Supreme's election and the Seniors enjoyed positions as cabinet advisors to the minister. The Juniors continued to play their parts around Draco, but were able to speak more freely thanks to Draco's fainting spells.

And as for the Dark Wizard who marked Harry Potter as his equal...

* * *

"Uh, Master?" Wormtail asked, looking around the beach with a flush to his pale cheeks. "Are you sure we should be out in the open like this?"

"Quite sure, Wormtail," Lord Voldemort spoke, laying back on a sunchair as the sun beat down upon his bleach white body. "Muggles are foolishly accommodating, after all." He gestured to several nude French beauties sunning themselves nearby. "This, I feel, will be quite beneficial to me before we begin our war against Dumbledore."

"But Master, we've heard nothing from Lucius or any of the other Death Eaters," Wormtail said worriedly, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in only sandals. "What if trouble has occurred?"

"Wormtail," Voldemort growled, pulling down his sunglasses. "I'm quite sure that everything will be prepared for my arrival when we get back."

"Y-Yes Master," Wormtail squeaked.

"Now," Voldemort spoke, replacing his sunglasses. "Go frolic. Your nudity offends me."

"Yours isn't doing much for me either," Wormtail muttered, stalking off in a huff. Voldemort smirked and relaxed, enjoying the sun as a snake would sunning on a rock in the desert.

"Ah... Nothing can possibly go wrong now," he hissed.

* * *

**THE END**

**Not what you were expecting? Probably not. But at least you can't say I didn't finish it.**

**Phew. It's been a long road but finally, this story is done. Is it perfect? Hell no. But was it fun? Hell yes.**

**I might return down Harry Potter's way someday, but for now, I have new pursuits in fanfiction. Still, what kind of an author would I be if I left my readers hanging forever? A lousy one, that's who.**

**And of course, if anyone thinks they can do better, consider "That Boy is Trouble" an open sandbox. Or my Harry and Pansy lemon to be a continuation, as I intend to add more onto that story in the future too.  
**

**So thanks again for reading. Hope you had a blast.**

_**~Andrew J. Talon**_


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